


Hundred Dollar Baby

by angvlicmish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Loner Castiel, M/M, Mutual Pining, Popular Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:32:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22395583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angvlicmish/pseuds/angvlicmish
Summary: Friends of resident bisexual heartthrob, Dean Winchester, place a bet that even he can’t snag a date with resident cold-hearted loner, Castiel Novak. Dean, of course, is up to the challenge but everything is turned on its head when Castiel reveals that he overheard their conversation and proposes that they fake the entire bet so he can get half the money Dean’s friends will most certainly be paying up when they lose.And Dean should say no. Dean should turn on his heels and walk away. But he has a bit of a crush. And any excuse to get a little closer to Castiel is good enough for him.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 246
Kudos: 871
Collections: The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	1. Chapter 1

The midday sun has Dean squinting against the glare as he taps his pen against his teeth, an old habit he’s never been able to break. He flicks his gaze up from the notebook before him to over Brady’s shoulder where Castiel lounges, sitting lazily on a park bench across from them, book in hand. His legs are spread, one of his grey boots undone with the laces haphazardly shoved down the side, his dark hair tousled from the wind and Dean finds himself wondering what it would feel like to run his hands through it.

“Are you even listening?” 

Dean snatches his gaze away, turning to find Seb staring at him. “What?” Brady rolls his eyes over his laptop.

“Uh huh,” he mutters, continuing to tap away in that obnoxiously loud way that makes him want to kick his friend under the table. Dean and Seb have just finished up with a lecture and come out into the park between the university and the football field to grab a table to study at, Brady and Cillian joining them since they were free. Studying had been going fine as usual, Seb and Dean trading notes from the lecture until Castiel Novak had waltzed over to the bench beside them, backpack slung over one shoulder with his black jacket and blue eyes and that casual handsome charm that radiates from his uncaring attitude and decided to sit down and read. 

“What are you looking at?” Seb asks, Dean only realising now his eyes have found their way back to Castiel.

“Nothin’. Just, uh--”

“Oh, man, isn’t that the Novak guy?” Seb says, craning his head over the top of Cillian’s to get a glimpse of that dark mop of hair. Brady swivels around on the bench to eye him too – and Dean almost does kick him under the table for being such an obvious idiot - Cillian eventually flicking his eyes over as well to see what all the fuss is about.

“Novak guy?” Cillian asks, eyebrow raised. Dean huffs.

“You’ve never heard of Novak?” he says, because sure Cillian’s certainly not the most active in the gossip market but everyone in their year’s surely head of Novak. It’s a small city after all and news travels fast around here. If something gossip worthy happened, everyone knew about it sooner or later. But Cillian only frowns in response.

Brady shoots the poor dude a scandalised look. “Seriously, man, where have you been? He’s that cold-hearted prick who cheated on all his past boyfriends.” Dean glances back over to him, where he’s still sitting in the exact same position, book in hand, brows furrowed at the pages. 

He wouldn’t be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly intimidated by him. He’s got the height and he’s almost certain he could take him in a fight but with the way Castiel holds himself, like the world could fall into disarray overnight and he’d still just sit there reading his stupid fucking book, paired along with those piercing blue eyes – well, it’s hard not to feel intimidated. Despite it though, and all the pretty awful stories he’s heard, Dean’s always had kind of a crush on him. Well, at least the R rated kind of crush. Not like his crotch ever had standards anyway. But at least his heart does, thank Christ. He could never fall for a cheater. Not in a fucking eon. Especially after what happened with his first girlfriend. He wonders how Castiel even got that way in the first place.

“Loner too. Doesn’t have any friends,” he says, frowning down at his notebook. It’s not like Castiel seems to care – about anything for that matter – but it can’t feel too great not having any--

Dean stops himself short. _No._ No sympathy for cheaters. “He’d probably cheat them over somehow anyway." Just like his first girlfriend did to all her own friends eventually. Cheaters are probably all the same.

“I heard he doesn’t date anymore,” Seb adds. “Heard a couple of dudes tried to ask him out and he basically laughed in their faces. And one poor guy finally got told yes but when he turned up to the date, Novak had blocked his number and left him high and dry.” 

Dean glances up just in time to watch Castiel bite his lip, eyes falling to the curve of his mouth and because his body’s a goddamn traitor, a blush stains his cheeks and yeah, maybe he’s a massive dick but what would it feel like to kiss those lips?

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Brady says.

“Great. Cold-hearted loner who sleeps around. All caught up,” Cillian says dryly, clearly disinterested in the conversation.

“Yeah, yeah,” Brady says, shoving Cillian in the side. “You know you’re hooked.” 

Dean hums, scribbling in the margins of his notebook. “Heard he’s smart though. Got a lecture with him on Thursday night. Saw he got an A on an essay once.”

Seb grunts. “Probably because he sucks the professor’s dick.” Cillian chokes on his drink as Brady lets out an obnoxiously loud laugh. Dean huffs a laugh before actually kicking Seb under the table.

“Probably,” Dean says, but he knows that’s not true. Even just from the one class they share, Castiel’s always seemed pretty studious.

“When the semester’s over, he’ll leave him high and dry too,” Seb snickers.

“You know, I bet not even our resident heartthrob, the one and only Dean Winchester could woo him,” Brady says. Dean flips him the bird as they laugh, trying to hide the hot blush creeping up his neck. 

It’s not like he’s the most popular guy in their year but people certainly know who he is – again, small city (although Sam’s always said he’s just being modest). In the open baseball team at his high school and first and second year of university before he dropped out to focus more on study. And well, he’s gotten around. Partied it up a little. Not that he finds much time for it anymore. But still, he’ll catch an eye every once in a while. 

So, he’s only joking when he says, “Nah, I reckon I could.” 

“Oh, really?” Brady waggles his eyebrows. Dean’s gaze doesn’t waver. Brady straightens up, smile spreading wide on his face. “Fine. I bet you fifty bucks you can’t get Castiel Novak to even say yes to you for a date.”

Seb laughs. “Oh man, I’m in too.”

Dean leans back. “What? So, I gotta give you both fifty bucks if I lose?”

“Where’s that confidence gone, Winchester?” Brady coos, smug smile plastered in his lips. Cillian shakes his head at all of them.

“Fine.” Dean drops his pen and stands from the bench. “Better get those fifties out boys.” Before either Seb or Brady can respond he strides the short distance over to where Castiel sits, book still in hand, although he can hear the cackles loud enough behind him.

And there he is. Standing right in front of Castiel – the guy in question still staring down at that damn book of his as if Dean’s not even there – and suddenly it’s the worst idea he’s ever had. But he’s here now. Might as well get the humiliation over with. And might as well start pulling two fifties out of his wallet.

“Hey,” Dean says, and already hates the sound of his voice. He used to charm his way into pants all over campus with his voice alone. But now it’s unsure and weak and not at all charming or resembling the resident heartthrob he’s supposed to be. So, he closes his eyes for an instant, cursing himself for doing this anyway, and takes a deep breath before starting anew. 

Except now Castiel’s blue eyes are gazing up at him and his heart pounds a little faster. Shit.

“I’m Dean.” A beat. “Winchester.” His cheeks burn from embarrassment. He wants to bang his head against a tree. No crush this stupid has ever reduced him to such a mess and why does he even have this damn crush in the first place? 

Castiel doesn’t even blink. “I know who you are.” 

“Right.” But Castiel doesn’t say anything in return, only stares back at him, arms stretched over the back of the bench he’s sitting on, looking as though his patience is running very thin. Dean mentally slaps himself into gear as soon as he hears laughter behind him. If he’ll lose this, at least he’ll do it with dignity.

The easy grin finally slips into place. “Well, I was just wondering, you know, if maybe you’d like to go out and get a drink sometime.”

“Sure.” 

Dean blinks. “What?” It’s like someone’s doused him with a cold bucket of water and the answer’s out so quick, he’s not even certain if he heard it right or not. Castiel raises his eyebrows.

“I said sure.” 

Dean almost laughs. Almost. “Uh, okay. Great,” he says, remaining as calm and casual as he possibly can but all he can think is goddamn, _I guess I really still am the resident heartthrob_ when--

“But only as long as I get half the cut.”

Dean pauses. “Um, excuse me?” 

Castiel’s looking at him like he’s the biggest idiot this side of the equator. “The cut. The bet. That you and your friends made.” Dean’s eyes go wide, mouth falling open to try and find something to say – something comprehensible at least but Castiel only rolls his eyes. “Yes, I heard about your little bet. And you know what? Sounds kinda fun. So, what do you say? Wanna get back at your friends with me?” 

Dean’s mouth is still awkwardly hanging open and it’s only when an amused smile flashes across Castiel’s face that he clears his throat. “Uh, I don’t – how--”

“What do you mean how? You go over there, collect a hundred bucks because I said yes and then bet them a hundred more for if I show up to the date. I will. Then more for a kiss and so on. I’ll get half and you’ll get half _and_ the satisfaction of fucking with your friends for sending you over here in the first place. Got it?”

He swears to god the ‘no fucking way’ is on the tip of his tongue – cause he ain’t gonna fuck over his friends like that – when his brain finally catches up and he realises what Castiel’s said. _More for a kiss._

Dean stares at him, mouth suddenly very dry. He’s almost certain if his friends ever found out, they’d make him return the money anyway so it’s not like that’s a big win. Sure, he’d love to see the look on their faces but the prospect of kissing Castiel Novak – something he’s admittedly fantasised about more than once – that changes things.

He cranes his neck over to where his friends are doing a terrible job at hiding their gazes. He chews his bottom lip, worrying it over. It would be a dick move if he screwed them over like this.

He glances back down to Castiel, tan skin, sharp jaw and amused blue eyes. 

Worth it. 

“Alright. Deal.” There’s a flash of something in those blue eyes – something downcast – before Castiel smiles that easy smile and pushes himself up from the bench. 

“Phone,” is all he says, hand out waiting as Dean pats down his jeans to find it before placing it in his upturned palm. He types quickly, phone back in Dean’s hand before he can barely blink. Castiel shoves his book in his bag and slings it over his shoulder before turning to stare at Dean and only now does he realise how close they are.

Dean swallows, his traitorous eyes falling to Castiel’s mouth before he can stop himself, only inches apart. When he drags them back up, Castiel’s got a smirk in his eyes. 

He leans forward ever so slightly and Dean swears his heart almost stops before he says, half-whispering, only for him, “See you later, Dean.” Any words disappear on his tongue and before he can even take another breath, Castiel is striding away across campus, not sparing another glance in his direction.

Dean lets out a deep breath, eyes traveling down the length of him as he goes. Fuck.

He hears vague swearing behind him and he plasters on the biggest grin possible before turning on his heel and striding back towards his table. 

“What the fuck just happened?” Brady says, Seb appearing to be in a similar state – although Cillian is holding back a laugh.

Dean only grins. “I don’t know. Pretty sure Castiel Novak just said yes to a date and, uh, gave me his number.”

Seb scowls. “Of course he did.”

“Now, where’s that confidence?” he teases, Seb swearing at him before begrudgingly pulling out his wallet. They both hand over a fifty each, Dean already feeling weird about the whole situation. Shit. Was this a mistake? 

“I bet he won’t show up. Probably gonna do what he did to that poor kid,” Brady says, a smugness about him now.

Seb nods. “Yeah, I bet he’s right. Ain’t gonna happen.”

“Would you like to bet on that?” Dean says. 

“You’re damn right,” Brady says, Seb agreeing.

“You’re all idiots,” Cillian says from across the table.

✧ ✧ ✧

It’s Thursday when Dean finally sees Castiel again. They share a class together – script writing and editing – one Dean thoroughly enjoys. And perhaps more so because Castiel’s in that class. 

He even found himself strangely nervous when he woke this morning, knowing he would see him tonight. It got to the point where he even tried to brush himself up a little bit, putting on an outfit that he reckons makes him look ruggedly handsome, if he says so himself.

It’s quite pathetic really.

He’s walking towards the classroom when he sees him, leaning back against the wall outside, backpack slung over one shoulder and earbud in one ear as he scrolls through his phone. 

Dean swallows down the nerves as he comes to stand in front of him.

“Hey,” he says and Castiel looks up, pausing a moment as though he’s taking Dean in before that amused smile pulls at his lips.

“Dean,” he says, in way of greeting. 

“I, uh…” Dean pulls the folded fifty dollar note from his pocket. “Your cut.” 

Castiel’s eyes flick down to the money in his hands before he takes it and for some strange reason, laughs.

Dean raises his eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says, shaking his head. “Just, fifty bucks each. Your friends must’ve thought I was real hard to get.” 

Dean narrows his eyes, not sure if he’s joking.

“Well--” Dean starts but Castiel cuts him off.

“So, when’re we going out?” Beside them, their professor arrives, opening the classroom.

“Uh, does Saturday night work?” Dean asks. Castiel shrugs, unfazed.

“Sure.”

“Okay, great. Is there any time that you want?”

“Don’t care. Text me when you decide,” he says before patting Dean on the chest as he pushes himself from the wall and walks past. And then he’s entering the classroom, leaving Dean standing in the hall.

Dean stands frozen for a moment, embarrassingly flustered before following after him.

Castiel sits two rows in front of him and to the left. Dean knows this because that’s where he sits every class.

And of course, because that’s where he finds his eyes trailing to every moment or so, all the way through said class. 

He’s hardly put his books back in his bag at the end of it when Castiel is suddenly waltzing past him, an amused shine in his eyes as he says, “See you on Saturday, Dean.”

✧ ✧ ✧

_**Castiel Fucking Novak !!** _

_where are we going_

_**Dean Winchester** _

_Maybe just the pub?_

_**Castiel Fucking Novak !!** _

_time?_

_**Dean Winchester** _

_Eight sound good?_

_**Castiel Fucking Novak !!** _

_suits me_

_**Dean Winchester** _

_I can pick you up if you want._

_**Castiel Fucking Novak !!** _

_nah I’ll meet you there_

_**Dean Winchester** _

_Okay, man. See you at eight._

✧ ✧ ✧

It’s almost a mirror image of when he saw him on Thursday. Castiel’s outside the pub, leaning against the wall, phone in hand. The only difference is the lack of backpack and headphones.

And well, the outfit. 

Tight, black jeans – as usual – with those trusty grey combat boots. But instead of those bomber jackets he’s always wearing, Castiel’s only in a tight white shirt that’s tucked in, paired with some dark bands around his wrist, similar to Dean’s own actually.

And Dean’s already fucked because of course he’s this fucking attractive. If it was anyone else, he would still be the charming, heartthrob Dean Winchester but all he can do now is blush to the tips of his ears and leave his mouth hanging open in what he thought was going to be a greeting but apparently fucking not.

Castiel continues to stare at him, eyes flicking down and back up once before he says, “You can call me Cas if you want.”

Dean blinks. “What?”

“We should go inside. Your friends are already here.” Castiel’s blue eyes pierce into his own, and it’s that irritating amusement that flashes across Castiel’s face that finally snaps him out of it.

“Yeah, they’ll probably be pretty obvious but don’t worry about it. You’re here with me, remember?” Dean says, a little cockily. Castiel grins before shrugging past him and into the pub.

They find a table quick enough despite the crowd tonight. It’s not terribly packed – at least not enough that Dean’s friends can’t see them but enough for it not to be embarrassing how little they tried to hide in a booth in the corner.

“So,” Dean starts, completely unflustered now, not wanting Castiel to hold that moment outside over him, “You come here much?”

“Not really.” Castiel picks up the menu, leaning back lazily in his seat. “I’m guessing you do though.”

Dean smiles. “How’d you know?”

“You seem like the type.”

Dean’s eyebrows pull together. “The type?”

“Got anything to recommend?” Castiel says, eyes scanning the menu now. Dean stares at him a moment before shaking his head.

“Uh – cheeseburger’s a classic.”

“I’m vegetarian.”

Dean straightens. “Really?” 

“Uh huh,” Castiel says, as he peers over the menu.

“We’ll never work out.”

Castiel holds his eyes for a moment before he smiles, eyes crinkling at the side. And it’s so strange. To see a smile that isn’t forced or mocking. To see a genuine one. Dean’s heart flutters. “How unfortunate.”

The waiter interrupts them thankfully to take their order, allowing the annoying flips in Dean’s chest to calm down so he can regain his charming and most certainly unfazed demeanour. 

As the waiter leaves, there’s a few moments of silence, Castiel glancing around the pub as he raps his knuckles on the table. Dean takes a quick glance himself, noticing a few of the younger people – mostly students – staring in their direction.

Dean clears his throat. “So, what’s your type?”

Castiel turns back to him, then, with a slightly irritated face that can only read ‘are you joking?’. 

“Your scamming my friends of their money. Humour me,” Dean says, trying not to sound desperate. Castiel rolls his eyes before looking as though he’s pondering it for a moment.

Dean sighs, taking a sip of his beer. 

“Got to be at least ten inches.” 

Dean coughs up his drink. Castiel raises an eyebrow before, with a face completely blank takes a sip of his own. Dean smiles despite himself, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

Castiel only shrugs. “I don’t know, am I?” Dean rolls his eyes.

“I just thought I could get to know you,” he says, and it doesn’t surprise him to know that he truly means it. Because maybe this is a stupid thing he’s got himself into and it could end anytime soon but he did it for Castiel in the first place, and he’s not going to let the opportunity to know him better slip away. Especially since so few people know anything about him.

Castiel’s eyes fall to his beer before he says, “I’m vegetarian.”

Dean stares at him. “Yeah, I got that.”

“I read.”

Dean huffs. “Yeah, I know that too. C’mon something else.”

Castiel flicks his eyes away, out towards the bar, looking slightly annoyed. “I’m sure you know enough already,” he says, and the tone of his voice leaves no more room for questioning. Dean frowns. 

They’re interrupted a moment as their meals arrive before, hoping to lighten the mood, Dean says, “What about me?”

It appears to work, Castiel glancing up at him, face calm and empty as per usual. “What about you?”

“Don’t you want to get to know me?”

“I know enough.”

Dean’s lips quirk up. “Really?” he says, waggling his eyebrows. Castiel shakes his head at him as he steals a chip from Dean’s plate. “Like what?”

Castiel lets out a long exhale, wrapping his long fingers around his beer. “Hmm, let me see. You were a star of the baseball team. Quit to focus on study.” Dean raises his eyebrows, impressed that he knows so much. Not that it would be difficult to find out. “Much to the swooning of girls everywhere.” Castiel pauses, amused smile on his face now. “And some boys.”

Dean bites his lip. “And you?”

Castiel’s returning smile is cocky but infuriatingly charming nonetheless. “You wish.”

Dean scoffs. “What? I don’t wish--”

“I can feel it when you stare at me all through class,” he says, and Dean’s cheeks tinge pink, embarrassed to have been noticed. “You’re not very subtle.”

Dean swallows around a bite of his burger before shrugging. “What? I like looking at pretty things.”

Castiel’s eyes slip shut, head tipping back as he smiles. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

Dean leans back in his seat. “Works on everyone.”

“Oh, really?” Castiel says, opening his eyes to stare right through him.

“Yep.”

“Well, not me.” 

“Are you sure?” Castiel shakes his head, that annoyed look in his eyes once more.

“Very.”

Dean’s chest tightens a little, lips turning down. “You know you’re not doing a very good job.”

Castiel narrows his eyes. “Of what?”

“Acting like you’re having a good time.”

“Who says I’m not having a good time.”

“The looks you keep giving me, for one.” 

“Wouldn’t it be a little out of character if I started batting my eyes at you?”

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Dean says conceding. “So, you wanna make movies when you grow up?” 

Castiel sighs a little, probably relieved in the change of subject. “Try to. You the same?”

“Uh huh.”

“What kind?” he asks, genuine interest on his face. Dean’s surprised by it.

“I’m gonna redo the entire DC universe,” he responds, grinning when it pulls a laugh from Castiel. One that has his nose scrunching and shoulders shaking. Dean can’t help the smile that creeps onto his face.

“Good luck with that.”

“No, no,” Dean starts. “I’d rather make a bisexual James Bond. Or Jason Bourne, I don’t mind.”

Castiel raises his eyebrows. “So, an action man?”

“Yeah, but it’s gotta make you cry too.” 

A breathy laugh falls from Castiel’s lips. “Of course.”

Dean grins. _Finally getting somewhere._ “What about you? Got a genre you like?”

Castiel narrows his eyes, tapping the side of his beer. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, c’mon. You gotta be interested in something.” 

Castiel glances up at him, eyes searching – for what, Dean doesn’t know. He flicks his eyes down at the table before saying, “Something with romance.”

Dean grins, huffing a laugh before raising his eyebrows. “Yeah, _sure_ ,” he says, a thick layer of sarcasm present but when he meets Castiel’s eyes they’re not laughing back. 

In fact, he looks nothing short of upset.

“What?” Castiel says, almost spitting the word at him.

Dean’s smile fades, not certain as to what is happening. “Well, it’s just that you…” Dean starts, gesturing towards him.

Castiel raises his eyebrows. “Just that I what?”

“Well, you’re not really the romantic type.” Because he’s not. He’s heard the stories. Castiel’s the furthest thing from it, what with all the one-night stands and blowing people off. But he doesn’t dare say that with the icy look Castiel’s now giving him.

Before Dean can say anything more, Castiel pushes himself up from his seat. “I need to piss.”

“Cas, wait,” he says but Castiel’s already striding off into the crowd. “Shit,” he mutters, slumping back in his chair. He didn’t realise what he’d said was so offensive. He still doesn’t understand why.

It’s not long before a familiar face is standing before him.

“So,” Brady says, drawing the word out. “How’s it going?”

Dean takes a long swig of his beer. “Great.”

“Uh huh. I mean, I’ll give it to you – you got him to show up to the date but uh – he looked pretty angry just now. I think this might be the end of the line, Winchester.”

“I beg to differ,” he retorts, not even trying to not sound annoyed.

Brady’s about to retort something in return when the one and only Bela Talbot strides over, perching herself on his table. 

“Either one of you wanna tell me what Castiel Novak was doing sitting across from you just now?” she says, hands on her hips.

“We’re just having a chat.”

“Dean’s on a bet.” Dean glares at Brady, but his friend only shrugs.

“A bet?” Bela says, lips quirking up into a smile. “Tell me more.”

“We bet him he couldn’t get Castiel to show up for a date with him.”

“And he did? Well, Dean here’s quite the charmer but still, I’m impressed,” she says, winking.

And Dean would usually reply with one of his own. But right now, all he wants to do is to tell them both to piss off. He doesn’t know why. But seeing Castiel storm off like that doesn’t make him feel so great. And for some strange reason, he really wants to make it right.

“Don’t tell anyone, though,” Brady says, interrupting his thoughts. “Don’t want Castiel finding out.”

“Of course. But in the meantime,” Bela starts, turning to Brady and giving him the biggest ‘fuck off’ glare he’s ever seen.

Brady scoffs but stalks back to his table anyway.

Bela turns on him then, hand creeping across the table to cover his own. “You wanna get a drink at my place?”

Dean resists the urge to shrug her hand off – something he would usually whole-heartedly welcome. 

“Uh, yeah, not right now. While this is going on,” he says, shooting her his best apology smile.

Bela sighs, removing her hand. “Alright. But you have my number.”

“That I do,” he says, and she winks one last time before walking back over to her friends just as Castiel appears in front of him, taking his seat back in the booth.

“What’d she want?” he asks, stilted and eyes not meeting Dean’s.

“Not much.”

There’s a flash of annoyance in Castiel’s eyes and it’s clear he doesn’t believe him. 

Dean sighs. “I’m sorry about before. I shouldn’t have assumed--”

“Yeah, whatever, I don’t care,” Castiel says flippantly, finally meeting Dean’s eyes for a second. “Let’s just wrap this up. Been here long enough.”

Dean’s heart sinks. Half of Castiel’s meal is still uneaten. “You don’t want another drink?”

“Not really. Need to get home.” He’s already pulling his wallet out and standing and Dean knows this is it. He really blew it that quickly.

“Alright,” he says, trying not to sound disappointed as he leads Castiel to the counter.

Dean doesn’t turn to eye his friends when they finally exit out onto the sidewalk. He pauses beside Castiel where he stands, hands shoved in his jean pockets, looking out at the street in front of him. He knows he should say something. He wonders if Castiel will even want to go on with this bet anymore. He’s still not sure exactly what he did wrong though. Are people just really uptight about romance movies?

He clears his throat when Castiel still doesn’t say anything. “So…” 

“Tell your friends you reckon you can get a kiss for more,” Castiel says, blue eyes back to piercing through him again.

Dean swallows. “Uh, okay.”

“I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you then,” Dean says, giving him a weak smile. Castiel stands for a moment and it looks as though he’s about to leave when he stands slightly on his tiptoes and kisses him on the cheek.

Dean blushes, eyes going wide. 

“Uh, what was…”

Castiel pulls away, a small smile on his face. His eyes aren’t filled with his usual amusement though. They actually look a little sad.

“Gotta make it look convincing, right?” And with that, he’s walking away down the sidewalk, pulling those headphones out of his jeans pocket and putting them in his ears. Dean’s still staring after him, cheek hot where Castiel’s lips were when his friends come over, one of them slapping him on the back.

He can hear them talking – asking him something maybe – but he’s not listening. All he can really hear is the pounding of his chest and the thought swirling around his head that this was truly the worst idea he’s ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will have five chapters, all of which are roughly around 5-6k words. I'm hoping to post each one every four days or so.
> 
> Comment below or leave some kudos if you enjoyed! Thanks so much for reading ♥
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://angvlicmish.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

There’s a flutter in his stomach as he approaches the lecture hall. 

It’s almost pitiful.

He’s never felt like this before. Never felt so flustered by the thought of seeing another person. Never felt so flustered by a kiss on the cheek – something of which he’s had plenty. But Castiel is different. And at first, he thought it was just a harmless crush. But even after spending a short amount of time with him, he’s already yearning to know everything about him – something he’s never truly felt with anyone else.

Castiel’s just interesting. Different. In a weird, hot kinda way. 

He’s not sure what he hopes for but his heart sinks a little when he finds Castiel’s already seated inside – the professor already at the front of the class. Dean takes his seat at the back, eyes glancing over to where Castiel’s twirling a pen around his fingers.

The lecture is interesting. Castiel twirling that stupid pen around his stupid fingers is even more interesting.

But what perhaps is the most interesting is when the professor starts talking about their assignment. He’s halfway through saying that they will be partnered up with whoever’s to their left when Castiel abruptly stands up, grabs his backpack and the notepad he’d been using and walks over and places it down on Dean’s desk.

Everyone watches silently as Castiel grabs a spare chair and drags it over to place it down next to him.

Dean gapes. Castiel doesn’t appear fazed at all.

“Um…” the professor starts, as everyone continues to stare in their direction. “Well, if everyone _else_ would partner up with whoever is to their left, that would be great.”

There’s a moment where no one moves, everyone still looking towards Castiel before finally people start getting up and moving to sit with their partners.

Dean breathes out a sigh of relief now that everyone’s distracted. He glances at Castiel who’s drawing something in the margins of his pad.

“Really wanna be my partner, huh?” And it’s only now that he feels the swell of warmth in his chest. Because Castiel really just did all that to be his partner.

Castiel looks at him for a moment before continuing to draw. “It’ll look better if we spend more time together.”

Dean’s heart sinks a little. Of course. What was he thinking?

“Right, yeah.” He swallows down the bitter disappointment before saying, “You can come around to my dorm sometime to work on it. One of my friends lives with me so he’ll see you there.”

Castiel nods, face blank. “Sounds good. Which scene do you wanna do?” Dean stares at him. “For the assignment.”

“Oh, uh…” Dean starts, pulling out the sheet the professor handed out. “I was looking at the third one.”

Castiel’s lips quirk up. “Me too.”

✧ ✧ ✧

Dean’s phone vibrates on his desk as he pulls a fresh shirt over his head. 

_**Castiel Fucking Novak !!** _

_im downstairs_

Dean’s lips quirk up as he texts back.

_**Dean Winchester** _

_Be there in a sec._

“That him?” Dean looks up to find Sebastian shoving his laptop into his backpack, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. Dean almost rolls his eyes. He can’t believe both him and Brady have continued to buy their charade let alone place more bets with their own money. Cillian’s the only smart one, apparently.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna head down to fetch him. Give us an hour or two.”

“Yeah, yeah but if you have no proof of a kiss, it doesn’t count.”

He smiles. “Don’t worry. You’ll have proof if I get one.”

“You sly dog,” Sebastian teases, but Dean’s already out the door and heading down the hall. The dorms aren’t too busy on a Monday but there’s still a few people milling about. Castiel’s still easy to spot, however, where he sits on the steps out front, back to Dean. 

Dean’s a few steps away when he finally notices he’s on the phone to someone, twirling his fingers in the cord of his headphones. 

“—studying, so I’ll pick something up on the way home,” he’s saying when he glances up and sees Dean standing there. He shoots him a quick smile hello before turning his head away in some attempt of privacy but it doesn’t stop Dean from hearing his last words. “Yeah. Love you too.”

Dean feels himself softening at his quiet words. Even though he’s probably just talking to his mum, it almost seems out of character for Castiel to have soft side to him. 

Castiel hauls himself to his feet. “Sorry about that.”

Dean grins. “No worries. I won’t tell anyone you’re a mama’s boy.”

Castiel’s expression falters for a moment. “It was my dad,” he says, slightly tense.

Dean hesitates, unsure of what he’s said wrong. “Daddy’s boy, then,” he jests but Castiel’s eyes are already flicking away towards the dorm building.

“Uh huh, are we just gonna stand around all day or what?” Castiel says, eyes still trained on the building and Dean can see the slight tension in his shoulders and understands that he wants to move on from whatever it is Dean’s said. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry, I’ll lead the way.”

On the way up to his room, Dean wonders if perhaps his mum isn’t around anymore and maybe his words pulled a heartstring or two. He decides it’s better just to leave it. 

Sebastian’s still loitering in their room – he’d wanted to meet Castiel finally despite Dean trying to convince him not to. Castiel barely spares him a glance, however, once he steps inside.

“Seb, this is Cas. Cas, this is my mate, Seb.”

Sebastian grins like an idiot, sticking his hand out to shake. “Nice to finally meet you, Cas.”

Castiel’s eyes don’t even stray to the hand in front of him. “I’m sure,” he says, not even attempting to hide the sarcasm in his voice before he steps around Sebastian and further into their room.

Sebastian balks, hand still hovering in the air as Dean tries unsuccessfully to cover a surprised laugh that escapes him. 

Sebastian is mouthing ‘what the fuck’ to him while Castiel’s back is turned but as soon as he spins back around to face them, Sebastian is already making his way to the door with a, “Okay, well, I was just heading out so you two have fun.”

“See you later, man,” Dean says, clicking the door shut behind him. Castiel’s already back to looking around their quaint little room, almost as if Sebastian wasn’t ever there.

After a few moments of silence, Castiel nods his head before speaking. “Dorm’s nice.”

Dean clears his throat. “Yeah, it’s pretty good. Where do you live?”

“Home.”

Dean puffs out a breath. “Lucky.”

Castiel finally turns his head to look at him, eyes narrowed. “Would’ve thought you’d be the type to prefer living in a dorm.”

Dean shrugs. “Yeah, I mean it was fun at first but there’s no damn privacy and I’m not embarrassed to say I miss my family.” And he waits for some jab, some sarcastic remark but Castiel only nods, a small smile pulling at his lips. His eyes land on Dean’s bedside table a moment later, the photo framed on top. 

He takes a step toward it, reaching for the frame with gentle fingers. “This them?” Dean walks over beside him, peering over his shoulder at the photo. One with his dad’s arm around his shoulders and his mum’s around Sam’s as they smile widely at the camera.

“Yeah. My mum, dad and kid brother, Sammy.”

Castiel stares at it for a moment, eyes sweeping over each and every one of them. 

“They look nice.”

Dean smiles. “Yeah, they are. I’m pretty lucky. I mean, my dad was a little mad when I said I wanted to study film but he tolerates it now, so.” 

Castiel’s eyebrows pinch together in a weirdly endearing way. “Your dad didn’t want you to study film?”

Dean lets out a small laugh. “Understatement. He doesn’t really think getting into film as a ‘real job’.”

Castiel smirks. “Well, when you make the new bisexual James Bond and it makes millions of dollars, he won’t think that anymore.” And it’s only a small thing. That Castiel remembered. But Dean’s cheeks feel hot all of a sudden, knowing that despite how it may look on the outside, he’s been paying attention.

“Yeah?” Dean says, before deciding to ask anyway. “And what about your family?”

Some of the mirth in Castiel’s eyes fade. “Just me and my dad.” Dean’s warmth fades a little, knowing he’s probably right about the mum now. 

He swallows. “And what does he think of you studying film?” And apparently it was the right thing to say because Castiel’s eyes lighten just a little bit.

“He’s happy if I’m happy.”

Dean pauses for a moment, watching the way Castiel’s eyes gaze over Dean’s family photo. “Sounds nice.”

Castiel’s smile is small. “He is,” he says quietly and Dean can tell he means it. 

A few long seconds pass before Castiel blinks, finally placing the frame back down on the table.

“Should we, uh…” Dean gestures towards his desk. Castiel nods, setting his backpack down on the desk as he slumps down in Dean’s chair. By the time Dean’s dragged Sebastian’s chair over any sign of the sadness Castiel held a moment ago is gone, replaced by that casual, relaxed confidence. 

But despite the strange start, Castiel doesn’t hesitate before launching straight into the assignment and much to Dean’s surprise they work well together, bouncing ideas and questions off one another without any preamble, a process that’s always slightly awkward.

Dean finds himself getting distracted occasionally, watching the way Castiel’s brows furrow or the way he places the end of his pen between his lips. 

They’ve been going at it for nearly an hour when Castiel finally puts his pen down, leaning back in his chair. He stretches his arms up above his head, eyes wandering around the room while Dean’s eyes wander to where his shirt rides up and gives him a view of tan skin and dark hair.

Dean’s thinking it’s probably best to take a little break when Castiel says, “So, I guess we can’t stage having sex in your dorm.”

Dean splutters. “Excuse me?” And if his cheeks weren’t already red, they are now. But when Castiel turns his head, he looks completely unfazed – if anything, a little confused.

“Because you have a roommate. We’ll have to do it at my house.”

“Wait, woah, let’s back it up,” Dean says, wondering how on earth they got to this point, “You want to stage having _sex_?”

Castiel looks at him as though the answer should be obvious. “I wanna milk your friends of all the money I can get.”

Dean stares at him for a moment before huffing a laugh. “You’re a real charmer, you know that?” 

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, turning back to the assignment and there’s that stiffness to him that makes Dean wonder if he’s once again said something to annoy him. “We should organise another date for the kiss too.”

Dean swallows. “Yeah, sure.”

“What about the game on Friday? It’ll be public so your friends can hang around without it being super obvious.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Dean mumbles in return, thoughts still on what it is he might have said before. Castiel eyes him warily.

“I mean, if that’s alright. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Dean blinks, drawn out of his thoughts. “Why would I be uncomfortable?”

“Well, presumably other people might also see you kissing me.” Dean stares at him, brows pinched in confusion. Annoyance flashes through Castiel’s eyes just before they flit away. “And well, you know. I’m ‘Castiel Novak’.”

Dean’s lips turn down, a soft kind of sadness washing over him at the bitterness in Castiel’s voice. He’s never before looked at Castiel and felt sorry for him. Because…well, because his reputation is based off his own wrong actions. But looking at him now, the way he can’t meet Dean’s eyes, the way his lips are pursed in a thin line as he waits for Dean’s response…it doesn’t seem right.

“Trust me, I’m fine with it,” Dean says, although it feels not enough. Castiel finally looks back to him though, eyes still wary but a slight relief there too.

“Okay, I’ll text you, then.” 

Dean shoots him a small smile for some kind of reassurance but Castiel’s already turned back to the desk, working on the assignment.

✧ ✧ ✧

_**Castiel Fucking Novak !!** _

_stop staring at me_

_**Dean Winchester** _

_Don’t flatter yourself, I’m staring at the board._

_**Castiel Fucking Novak !!** _

_haha just caught you_

_**Dean Winchester** _

_I’m only staring cause there’s something in your hair._

_**Dean Winchester** _

_hahah made you look._

_**Castiel Fucking Novak !!** _

_fuck off_

_**Dean Winchester** _

_< 3_

✧ ✧ ✧

“What are you doing?” Sebastian asks, arms crossed over his chest where he watches Dean from the other side of the room. 

“White or grey?” Dean asks, holding up two shirts for his roommate to see. But Sebastian only stares at him a moment before his jaw drops.

“You’re trying to dress to impress, aren’t you?” Sebastian says, falling back on his bed with a laugh. Dean rolls his eyes but turns away before he can see the blush staining his cheeks.

“Well, yeah. I mean, I gotta look my best if I’m gonna get Castiel fuckin’ Novak to kiss me.” The truth, of course, is despite the fact that the night will end with a kiss from Castiel Novak no matter what he wears, he still is trying to dress to impress. 

Because maybe he likes Castiel. And maybe he kinda wants to kiss him for a reason other than just a stupid bet. Not that he would tell Castiel nor anyone else that. 

“Grey,” Sebastian says suddenly. “It goes better with your jacket.”

Dean nods his thanks, slipping the shirt over his head when his phone vibrates.

_**Castiel Fucking Novak !!** _

_i’m picking you up at your dorm_

_**Castiel Fucking Novak !!** _

_and brush your teeth_

Dean grins. He can’t believe that by the end of the night, he’s going to have kissed Castiel Novak. He wonders what staging sex will entail.

_**Dean Winchester** _

_Bossy ;)_

_**Castiel Fucking Novak !!** _

_don’t be late_

✧ ✧ ✧

Castiel is waiting in the exact same place he was on Monday, on the steps outside Dean’s dorm building. He’s in ripped jeans that hug him in all the right places paired with those same damn combat boots and that same damn black jacket he always wears. Not that Dean can complain. Because he looks really fucking hot and Dean wishes that they were on a real date and that whatever this is they’re doing didn’t have an expiration date. 

He’s been trying not to think about it too much, trying to enjoy the moment instead and all that shit, but he knows that eventually the bet will be up and they’ll part ways. He wonders if Castiel will even talk to him after that or go back to being strangers. 

At that moment, Castiel looks up to see Dean standing there, staring at him. Castiel raises some judgemental eyebrows.

“You’re late."

Dean grins, brushing his thoughts away. “Nice to see you too, Cas.”

“C’mon, let’s go. Wanna get a good seat.”

They amble over together, catching a few glances as they go because _what is Dean Winchester doing with Castiel Novak?_

Dean even catches Bela’s eye at one point, who’s grabbing some drinks outside the grandstand with her friends. She smiles mischievously before winking. 

Once again, Sebastian, Brady and Cillian – the only one that doesn’t grin foolishly when he finally catches sight of them – are sitting super fucking obviously at the very top of the grandstand.

Dean barely shakes his head before leading Castiel to some empty seats a few rows down. The match starts almost as soon as they sit and Dean watches on for a few minutes before turning to a quiet Castiel beside him. 

He knows this night is only supposed to be another thing for the bet, but that doesn’t mean he can’t keep trying to get to know Castiel.

But he’s not sure where to start. 

Castiel catches him staring. “What?”

Dean’s eyes widen. “Uh, nothing. Just…” Castiel’s eyes are sharp under the stadium lights. “So, you work?” Castiel narrows his eyes and Dean kicks himself for not saying something else. Why is it always so easy to be smooth and charming with other people and yet always so difficult with Castiel? 

“Yes,” Castiel responds after a moment.

Dean nods and he might as well get to know anything about him even if it’s not the things he _wants_ to know. “Where?”

Castiel huffs. “I’m not telling you.”

Dean’s eyebrows pull together. “Why not?”

“Because you’ll probably stalk me.”

Dean’s mouth hangs open. “Hey! Why the fuck would you think that?”

Castiel’s eyes are teasing when he meets Dean’s own. “I don’t know. You just seem like you would do something like that.”

Dean puts a hand over his heart. “Only because it would be to do something sweet.”

Castiel tilts his head to the side. “Hmm… No, I’m pretty sure that would still be stalking.”

Dean lets out a breathy laugh. “And what? You wanting to stage sex with me isn’t you being a pervert, then?”

“No.”

Dean shakes his head, revelling in the smile Castiel’s trying unsuccessfully to hide.

“You’re impossible.”

Castiel’s smile only grows wider. “I guess we’ll just have to break up, then.”

Dean’s laugh fades as Castiel’s words bring him back to the reality in front of him. But he still holds tight to the lightness in Castiel’s eyes, the smile on his lips.

The night passes smoothly from then onwards, Dean and Castiel both enjoying the game and chatting about whatever comes to mind. They even organise catching up to try and finish the assignment next week and even though it’s not much, Dean’s stomach flutters at the prospect of seeing him again so soon. And it’s kind of embarrassing when he thinks about how hard he’s crushing on Castiel, but who’s to blame him? There’s just something about him. And well…the handsome part certainly doesn’t help his cause.

And yeah, maybe he should feel more like an asshole for crushing on the dude that’s gone around cheating on all his boyfriends and generally being a cold-hearted dick but since he’s been hanging out with him, he hasn’t seen that part of him. Not that he can’t be a dick sometimes but the Castiel he heard about would probably never have even accepted this bet nor led him along for this amount of time.

And maybe he’s just overthinking it and he should just enjoy the game and the to-be kiss and the company before it all ends. 

But for some stupid fucking reason, he can’t shake the thoughts and questions building up inside of him and he can’t stop his mouth from opening when he speaks, “If you didn’t hear our conversation that day, would you have said yes to going out with me?”

Castiel lifts his head, eyes wide and clearly taken aback by Dean’s question. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. A moment or so passes before his eyes flick back to the game.

“No.”

But Dean’s already half smiling, almost certain in his answer. “You hesitated!” 

Castiel bristles. “I did not.”

“Yes, you did! Which means you were going to say yes, weren’t you?” And he can’t contain the excitement and triumph that radiates off of him.

Castiel crosses his arms over his chest. “I would _not_ say yes to going on a date with you.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Dean says, leaning into his personal space to catch his eyes. “You can’t say no to this face.”

Castiel doesn’t flinch. “No.”

Dean huffs, slumping back in his own seat. They sit quietly for a moment before he says, “You still hesitated.”

And beside him, Castiel looks down, biting his lower lip to contain another smile. The triumph in Dean’s chest only grows. At least, for the time being all Dean’s thoughts and questions can lay to rest. For he’s certain he’s at least got one answer.

“And you think I’m the impossible one?”

✧ ✧ ✧

They enjoy the game, although they don’t spend much time actually watching it, Dean mostly needling Castiel for any information about him. He mostly gets to know random facts but nothing that ever touches on his reputation and his past. 

Dean doesn’t push it though, he’s not that stupid. And he certainly doesn’t bring up family again, not wanting Castiel to be in a bad mood when they finally get to kiss.

A kiss that is close now as they mosey back to Dean’s dorm, Dean’s friends a safe distance behind them. They still catch a few eyes, many probably wondering what on earth he's doing with Castiel.

Dean’s too nervous to really think about anyone else, however, but as always Castiel appears as calm as ever beside him. Dean’s the one attempting to make awkward small talk to fill in the gaps as they get closer and closer but by the time they finally halt in front of his building, he’s run out of things to say, and his heart is pounding loudly in anticipation.

And it’s strange. Because he doesn’t think he’s ever been this nervous about a kiss. And this isn’t even a real one. Because maybe he really _does_ like Castiel more than he lets himself believe. 

But it’s not like he can say anything. Castiel wouldn’t want any more of him after this bet. He’s made that abundantly clear. And what would his friends say? What would his own _morals_ say?

Castiel stands in front of him now though, hands shoved in his jacket pockets and Dean can’t help but think how handsome he is. With that jacket and those boots, with the way his hair is a mess and yet looks completely in place and the way he holds himself like he knows everything Dean’s thinking and couldn’t care less about any of it. 

Dean’s palms are embarrassingly sweaty and he fumbles for something to say because he’s not sure if they’re supposed to talk about it or if he’s supposed to just go for it.

“Well, uh, hope you liked the game.”

Castiel’s eyes are bright with a soft kind of amusement, a smile pulling at his lips. And he’s strikingly beautiful. 

“What?” Dean says, a flush rising up his jaw.

Castiel’s smile is soft, voice gentle when he finally says, “Go on. Kiss me.”

And Dean huffs a laugh at the ridiculousness of it all before he remembers what he’s supposed to be doing. He swallows around the lump in his throat. 

“Okay,” he mutters, and slowly everyone around them falls away. His friends watching in the distance fall away. The bet falls away. 

He reaches his hands up, caresses Castiel’s warm cheeks in his palms and leans in to capture his lips with his own. And Dean’s own cheeks warm as Castiel kisses back, soft but wanting, a blush rising to the tips of his ears. 

Castiel’s hands don’t reach for him, staying firm in the pockets of his jacket but Dean doesn’t mind. Because Castiel’s kissing him back and he thinks he’d like to do this more than just once. That he’d like to keep kissing him for a little longer than he should.

But of course, he can’t. Because it’s not real.

So, after a suitable enough time, he pulls away. He keeps his hands on Castiel’s face for a moment longer, indulging himself before he slowly lets them drop and when his eyes flutter open, Castiel’s still got that same soft amusement in his eyes and small smile on his lips.

And Dean’s stomach flips, his own lips quirking upwards in a bashful smile. But as soon as they do, the light in Castiel’s eyes begins to fade, his smile slowly weakening.

Dean’s own smile falters, wondering what it is.

But Castiel doesn’t allow him to wonder very long. 

“I’ll see you later, Dean,” he says, voice quiet and if anything, tinted with sadness, before he’s turning and walking back down the steps and away.

Dean stares after him, lips turning down, palms still warm from Castiel’s skin. 

He doesn’t notice the stares nor when his friends finally approach, Brady cursing under his breath as he alongside Sebastian pull their wallets out.

He keeps his gaze on him for as long his eyes can see in the dark but Castiel doesn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment below or leave some kudos if you enjoyed! Thanks so much for reading ♥
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://angvlicmish.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 3

It’s only been three days but Dean’s practically vibrating with excitement to see Castiel again. And he would think how fucking pathetic but he’s past the point of caring now. He spent the rest of the weekend trying to explain to his friends how he ended up getting that kiss from Castiel which mostly consisted of Dean flashing a charming smile and saying ‘ _how can anyone resist this?’,_ which then mostly resulted in something being thrown at him and his friends – well, Sebastian and Brady while Cillian sat amused throughout – whining at him to tell them the truth.

They finally accepted his very vague answer that he’d weaselled certain likes and dislikes out of Castiel and used them to pretend they had things in common. Neither Sebastian and Brady were completely satisfied but they took the answer nonetheless. 

Dean decided not to push them just yet for the final bet – the one involving staging sex – not when they’re this low in morale. 

Since that night he also hasn’t had too many people texting him – all of whom he has ignored – asking if it’s true that people saw him kissing Castiel Novak after the game on Friday. So, he'll take that as a win.

Castiel’s already at the library by the time Dean gets there. He’s in his usual attire, head down over a book, one earbud in his ear. And strangely, he looks…peaceful. Dean almost doesn’t want to ruin the moment.

He doesn’t say anything as he approaches, setting his backpack down next to Castiel on the table. Castiel finally lifts his head from his book, plucking the earbud out of his ear.

His lips quirk up. “Take your time staring, did you?”

Dean flushes. “No, I wasn’t,” he splutters, humiliated to have been so easily caught. 

Castiel raises an eyebrow. “Uh huh, yes, I totally believe that.”

“What, like you don’t love it,” Dean challenges, batting his eyes. Castiel huffs a laugh, pulling Dean a chair out.

“C’mon. I wanna have this finished by lunch.”

As per Castiel’s wants, they do finish by lunch, their assignment complete bar the editing and Dean finds himself continually surprised with how easy it is to work with Castiel and how dedicated he appears to be in getting a good grade. They barely bicker over anything, and Castiel always listens if Dean has any criticism or different idea. 

And he’s not sure if before Castiel there was ever a person that he’s liked working on an assignment with. Although, the raging crush he has may help with the enjoyment just a little. Not that he would ever admit it. 

Dean’s packing away his things as slowly as possible, wanting to drag their time together out when Castiel says, “I’m hungry. You wanna get something to eat?”

Dean beams on the inside. 

They find a small café on campus for lunch and talk about random things like good local eats and what subjects they’re doing next semester although Dean spends most of the time gazing at Castiel and wishing there wasn’t a table dividing them. 

It’s only when they’re walking back to Dean’s dorm, Castiel having to go that way as well, when Dean hears his name being called. Both turn their heads to find none other than Brady, Sebastian and Cillian sitting at one of the benches in the park area, the former two waving for them to come over. 

Dean grins, tapping Castiel on the arm and gesturing towards them. “C’mon. Let’s go sit for a sec.”

Castiel’s eyes are narrowed, lips turned down slightly. “Is that really a good idea?”

Dean snorts. “Hell yeah, they won’t suspect a thing, trust me.” 

Castiel’s eyes flick over his shoulder, in the direction they were walking, before he shoves his hands in his jacket pockets. “Fine,” he grumbles, and begrudgingly follows Dean over to his friends.

“Hey, guys, you don’t mind if Cas here joins us?” Dean asks as he reaches them, already taking his own seat next to Brady and pulling Castiel down next to him.

“Of course not, have a seat, dude,” Brady says, leaning around Dean to see Castiel.

Castiel doesn’t say anything as he sits, hands still in his pockets as Cillian and Sebastian watch him from over the table.

“This is Brady, Cillian and well, Seb again.”

“Yeah, Dean’s roommate, remember?” Sebastian says. “Hope you guys didn’t…get up to anything when I was gone the other day.” He wiggles his eyebrows, eyes not leaving Castiel.

Dean rolls his eyes, already fucking embarrassed when Castiel says, “Actually we did. On the bed with the blue sheets. That’s yours, isn’t it?”

Brady laughs obnoxiously beside him. “Ohhhhh, he’s got bite, dude! I like that.” Castiel finally tears his gaze away from Sebastian to stare at Brady and it’s pretty easy to see how annoyed he already looks at everyone.

Dean clears his throat. “So, that game last Friday, huh?” It’s a pathetic attempt to move the conversation away but Cillian understands and indulges him and eventually Brady and Sebastian move on as well. 

Castiel doesn’t say anything the entire time and the few glances Dean sends his way, find him either fiddling with his zipper or looking out at the park. And, look, he knows Brady and Sebastian are assholes sometimes but he could at least try to make conversation.

Dean’s about to call it quits and tell them he and Castiel are off when Brady leans around Dean to catch Castiel’s eye again.

“So, Dean told us you guys had some fun at the game last Friday. So, what, are you guys like together now? Boyfriends or some shit?”

Dean looks to Castiel. He just shrugs. “Sure.”

Dean smiles, a little smugly. “Well, there you have it, I suppose we are.” 

But Brady doesn’t seem too cut up about it, eyes still on Castiel. “Right, so, Dean would be your first boyfriend in a while, huh?” Brady grins and Dean frowns, thoughts suddenly drifting to when _was_ the last time Castiel had a boyfriend. “Kinda a big deal, isn’t it?” Castiel continues to stare at him blankly. Brady cocks his head. “Just cause, you know, you’re not really a one soul kinda guy?”

He’s not sure what it is, maybe just Brady’s annoying smug face, but Castiel’s eyes turn icy in an instant.

And then, “Oh, so you’re the dumb one.”

Dean whips his head around, eyes wide, “Hey, what the fuck, Cas?” tumbling from his lips as he hears ‘woah, dude,’ from Sebastian across the table.

Castiel turns his glare on Dean before rolling his eyes. “Whatever. Nice to meet you all,” he says, and then without meeting anyone’s eyes, gets up and starts walking off.

Dean feels something strange in his chest. Perhaps, something akin to disappointment because maybe he’s thought too highly of Castiel. Maybe his crush has made him blind. Because yeah, his friends can be annoying - he knows that better than anyone - but that’s no way to fucking act.

“Fuck’s wrong with him? Got his fucking panties in a twist?” Brady says, still looking slightly taken aback by Castiel’s harshness. 

Sebastian chuckles. “Doubt he wears any fucking panties in the first place.”

“Shut the fuck up, Seb, Jesus,” Dean spits, before pushing himself up from the bench and following after Castiel because despite his current anger at him, he doesn’t want to hear anyone talking about him like that. 

Castiel’s quite a while away now and Dean has to run to catch up, grabbing his arm to make him stop.

“Hey, what the fuck, man?”

Castiel stares at him, looking as pissed off as Dean’s ever seen him. “What?”

Dean sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I know Seb and Brady can be fucking dumbasses but they’re just trying to get to know you, you don’t have to be so rude.”

Castiel’s jaw ticks. “Well, maybe I’m just a fucking rude person. How would you know? You’ve known me for like five fucking seconds,” he spits, before yanking his arm from Dean’s grip. He goes to walk away but Dean steps in front of him, hands raised.

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry, alright?” Because maybe he was fucking rude but Dean can’t stand the thought of Castiel being mad at him. Dean’s stomach unknots a little when Castiel appears to soften slightly beneath his pleading gaze. “And you know what? This ain’t so bad. It’ll make them more invested if we throw in a little ‘relationship drama’.”

“Jesus Christ,” Castiel mutters, and Dean’s not sure he’s ever seen someone so exasperated in his entire life. It’s enough for Dean’s mouth to lift up into something of a smile.

“Well? C’mon,” Dean says, nodding towards him.

Castiel raises his eyebrows. “C’mon what?”

“Slap me, kiss me, your pick. Gotta make it interesting,” Dean says before he can stop himself, and his chest tightens a little in preparation for Castiel to slap him in the face – probably hard – but Castiel just continues to stare at him before he rolls his eyes once more - although Dean swears he sees the edge of a smile.

And then Castiel grabs him by the front of his shirt and leans up to kiss him. And Dean’s chest floods with warmth because Castiel chose to kiss him instead. Castiel _chose_ to kiss him.

That’s of course when Castiel reaches up with his other hand and pinches Dean in the nipple. 

“Ow, _shit_ ,” Dean splutters, pulling back and Castiel’s already walking away. “Fucking sadist,” Dean calls after him and he swears he hears him laugh. “Yeah, love you too, honey.”

And maybe it wasn’t a perfect fucking day but Castiel’s not mad at him anymore, back to being a little shit and he _chose_ to kiss Dean for a second time. It’s enough for Dean’s chest to flutter with something special.

“Doesn’t look like you’ll be getting inside his pants anytime soon,” Brady says, as soon as he heads back over. And Brady looks slightly smugger than usual. Dean smiles.

“You wanna bet?”

✧ ✧ ✧

“Hey, sorry I’m late.” Dean lifts his head to see Castiel, looking slightly frazzled, slumping down in the seat beside him, hurriedly getting his laptop out. 

Something inside of him skips a little at seeing him. It’s only fifteen minutes into class but it was enough to have Dean thinking he wasn’t going to show. Not that Dean should care so much. He already sees him a few times a week now. 

The professor barely even lifts his eyes from the paper he’s reading at his desk.

“Hey, yeah, no problem, dude, was just doing some editing,” he says, scooting his chair a little closer to Castiel’s so he can see Dean’s laptop.

“Thanks,” Castiel mutters, although he barely meets Dean’s eye. 

They work mostly in silence for the next little while but Dean certainly doesn’t miss the few times Castiel looks at his phone, seemingly at the texts he keeps receiving and the way his whole face seems to fall and even though he clearly tries to hide it, Dean knows he’s upset. At what though, he's not sure. At least it’s not because of him. Or at least he hopes so.

Class is coming down to its final minutes when Castiel suddenly closes his laptop and slumps on the desk, chin resting on his hands. He stares out at the rest of the class, eyes glazed over and Dean’s never seen him so seemingly miserable. 

Dean bites his lip. 

“Hey,” he says quietly, nudging him gently. Castiel’s eyes flick up to meet his own. “You okay?”

Castiel’s eyes soften a little before they fall away. He shrugs. “Yeah, just uh…exes, you know?”

Dean frowns. “Oh.” Because it doesn’t just look like something he’s shrugging off. He wonders who it is. When were they last together? And what the fuck he’s saying to Castiel that’s making him look so depressed.

Probably best not to pry though. He’s sure Castiel isn’t really up to talking about. Especially not with him.

“So…what movie we going to see on Sunday?” Dean asks. Since Tuesday when their little ‘spat’ convinced Brady and Sebastian enough to bet that he won’t be getting in Castiel’s pants at all, they’ve organised to go to the movies on Sunday night and then head back to Castiel’s after to stage sex. Dean’s, obvious to say, really fucking excited. 

Castiel stares up at him, still not moving from where he’s slumped over the desk, and honestly? It’s pretty fucking cute. 

“I don’t know. What’s on?”

“Well, I saw there was a new horror out, although I heard it’s a bit shit,” Dean starts but Castiel’s already shaking his head.

“No, we’re not going to see a horror movie, I don’t care how shit it is.”

Dean stares at him. “Wait. Are you – scared of horror movies?” Castiel glares at him, although it’s half-hearted at best, and Dean’s jaw drops. “Oh my fucking god, we need to go fucking see it--”

“If you pick a horror movie I swear I’ll pull out of this bet right now.” And he sounds so serious that Dean laughs, much to the annoyance of the other students in class. 

“Are you really that scared?” Dean asks, lowering his voice a little now. And if things couldn’t get any worse, Castiel’s cheeks redden a little.

“Maybe,” he mumbles, and suddenly the image of Castiel curling up against him because he’s scared has Dean’s stomach flipping out.

“Oh, c’mon, I’d hold your hand,” he teases, and if anything, Castiel blushes more, hiding his head in the crook of his elbow.

“Fuck you,” is the muffled response.

Dean leans a little closer. “What’s that mumbles?”

“Shut up,” he responds, although he’s smiling as he looks back up to catch Dean’s eyes. And Dean can’t help the smile that lights up his own face, chest expanding. “They’re doing a showing of the Princess Bride, anyway, so that’s what we’re seeing.”

Dean grins. “Oh, so you _did_ look up what’s on, huh?”

Castiel’s ears are bright red now as he shoves Dean in the arm, breathy laughter on his lips. “Whatever.” And when he meets Dean’s eyes again, they’re bright and his smile is as wide as Dean’s ever seen it and his heart pounds a little harder than before at the sight.

More so, however, when Castiel holds his gaze, neither of them saying anything as they smile at one another.

And then just like that, Castiel’s smile begins to fade, the light dimming inside his eyes and he looks at Dean differently now – almost sadly. Something tightens in Dean’s stomach just as he looks away.

“I’ve uh--” Castiel swallows, packing his laptop into his backpack and standing from his seat as Dean realises all those around him are doing the same. “I’ve got another class to get to.”

Dean’s smile drops. “Oh. Uh, yeah, sure, see you Sunday then.”

Castiel meets his eyes only briefly to nod before he looks away again. “Yeah, see you Sunday.”

And then Dean’s alone, staring at the empty space beside him.

✧ ✧ ✧

Castiel won’t stop fiddling with the zipper on his jacket and even though there’s people chattering about around them as they wait in line at the cinema, Dean can still hear the phone buzzing in Castiel’s pocket. 

He's about to say something when Castiel finally turns to look at him, eyes apologetic. “Shit, sorry, could you get the tickets? I’ve just gotta take this,” he says, pulling the phone from his pocket.

Dean nods. “Yeah, sure. No problem.” Castiel sends him a grateful look before he walks off to most likely find a quiet corner. Dean frowns after him, hoping he’s okay. It’s not like it’s surprising but he hates seeing Castiel upset. 

He waits a few more minutes in line before purchasing the tickets and then takes a minute or so to find Castiel in the crowded area but eventually spies him standing near the entrance, still on the phone and looking, well, not happy.

Dean’s walking towards him when he hears, “--find someone else to fuck with, you prick. We’re not together anymore, Jesus, didn’t you get the fucking message?” Dean frowns, something sitting heavily in his stomach. Castiel looks up a moment later and sees him before lowering his voice. “I gotta go, alright. _Don’t_ call me like this again.” He hangs up before rubbing a hand over his face. “Shit, sorry, you ready to go in?” And his eyes keep flicking away from Dean’s, almost as if he’s embarrassed by what Dean might’ve just heard.

Suddenly he seems a lot smaller than he used to. 

“Yeah, I’m ready but you sure you’re okay, Cas?”

Castiel meets his eyes then, but he's still hesitant. “Yeah, just my fucking ex again, I’m sure you know what that’s like,” he says, once more attempting to shrug it off and so Dean lets him. But Dean’s never spoken to an ex like that.

He doesn’t ask though. Doesn’t pry. No matter how much his curious ass wants to.

They find a seat up the back and thankfully the cinema’s not too full. They haven’t said two words to each other since they sat down and it’s not long before Castiel gets his phone out to turn it on silent when he pauses, staring at two new texts he’s received. 

He stares at them for a long while, hiding the screen away from Dean so he can’t see and Dean can’t entirely make out the expression on his face in the darkening cinema but it’s sad. Castiel stares a moment longer before shutting his phone off entirely and slumping back in his seat and Dean’s heart sinks, cursing whoever this ex is that’s made Castiel so upset that he looks as though he isn’t going to enjoy one minute of their night together.

Neither of them speak through the ads, Dean not knowing what to say – not knowing if Castiel wants him to say anything – before suddenly the movie is starting and they’re descended into the dark. 

He’s not sure how long into the movie they are – he’s not paying much attention to it – wallowing in the sinking feeling inside of him, Castiel wallowing in whatever’s happening with his ex, when he decides to fuck it and reaches across and grabs Castiel’s hand.

He feels Castiel’s eyes shift to him, boring into the side of his face and he swears he barely breathes, heart a racquet in his chest.

But then--

Castiel laces their fingers, palm warm against Dean’s own.

And Dean bites his lip, glad of the dark for the blush that rises up his neck. And when ten minutes later he finally risks a glance to the side, there’s the smallest of smiles at the edge of Castiel’s lips.

And Dean’s heart beats to some kind of rhythm – a rhythm that says maybe he’s in over his head, thinking that he can part ways like nothing ever happened when the bet is finally over. 

✧ ✧ ✧

“Mawage. Mawage is wot bwings us togeder tooday. Mawage, that bwessed awangment--”

Castiel’s head is thrown back, hand over his stomach, tears in his eyes from laughter. “No, stop, please, it’s awful.”

Dean grins. “And wuv, tru wuv--” He’s cut off by a slap on his arm.

“I swear to fucking god,” Castiel says, through tears and Dean laughs, shaking his head, catching a glimpse of Castiel beside him before turning his eyes back to the road.

And he hasn’t seen him laugh like this the entire time they’ve spent together. Full belly laughter that he can’t stop. And it lights Dean up from the inside, the sound a melody to his ears. 

“What, like you haven’t memorised the whole speech,” Dean says, smile wide.

“I’m not that much of a nerd, Jesus.”

“You love it.”

“You wish.”

Dean catches Castiel’s eye at a stop light, his jaw touched by a hint of stubble, lips curved into his own trademark smile, tan skin peeking out from under his jacket, as handsome as always. And for some strange reason, he looks like he belongs there, at his side, in the front seat of the impala.

“What?” Castiel says, eyes curious. 

Dean’s mouth is suddenly dry. “Nothing. I texted my friends after the movie finished so they’ll probably already be outside your house when we get there.” Castiel had given him his address the night before which he’d then passed on to his friends and Dean was surprised by how close to the university it was. 

Castiel’s smile fades slightly. “Oh. Yeah, of course.”

Now that he’s mentioned his friends, he remembers why they’re really here tonight and Dean’s stomach knots with nerves but also excitement. Because he’s going to get the chance to kiss Castiel again.

He’s not sure how Castiel himself feels about it. He probably doesn’t care considering the amount of people he’s hooked up with.

It’s not even hard to pick out his friends, Cillian’s bright red Ford – which took Seb and Brady a lot of begging to get him to come and let them all use his car – parked across the road and a few houses down from Castiel’s. He can’t see any of them inside from this far away but he can tell they’re probably already grinning. Well, Seb and Brady at least. Cillian’s probably sulking.

“They here?” Castiel asks, as Dean pulls into his driveway, a homey two-story house waiting there to greet him.

“Red Ford.”

Castiel looks out the window before snorting. “Alright. Let’s go do this, then,” he responds, stepping out of the car before Dean can even ask how they should be doing this. They walk side by side up to the porch, they very image of ‘boy walking boy home after date’. Nothing suspicious about it.

They stop outside the front door, turning to face each other, Castiel looking at him as though wondering what he’s going to do next. 

Dean clears his throat. “So…” Should he just kiss him? Does Castiel want him too?

Castiel cocks his eyebrow, a smile on his lips. “You do remember why we are here, don’t you?”

Dean scoffs. “Yes, it’s just…how are we supposed to do this?”

“Okay, well, how about this?” Castiel takes a step closer, holding Dean’s eyes. “Dean Winchester. Will you please do the honour of putting your hand on my phallus--”

“Yeah, that’s getting me real fucking hard for you, Cas,” Dean says, cutting him off as his cheeks heat up.

Castiel grins. “Isn’t that how it’s said these days?”

“Fuck you.”

“Well, that was the point.” 

Dean runs a hand through his hair, flustered now at the thought of them – of Castiel--

“Christ, just get on with it, won’t you?” 

But Castiel stays standing where he is, hands in his pockets with that infuriating fucking smile on his face. “You’re so easy to wind up, you know that?”

Dean shakes his head, cursing Castiel under his breath before he decides, fuck it, grabs Castiel by the waist to pull him in, his other hand finding his jaw and kisses him like he’s wanted to kiss him ever since the night began. 

Castiel makes a startled noise in the back of his throat before jerking backwards and Dean’s stomach drops, immediately knowing this is not wanted but Castiel doesn’t pull away from his hands and when Dean searches his eyes, finds something mischievous lingering there.

“What?” he whispers, as though his friends could possibly hear him.

Castiel smiles. “Gotta make it dramatic, right?” Dean’s laugh is one of relief but he can’t get much further before Castiel’s lips are colliding with his own, hands either side of Dean’s face. His cheeks burn hot beneath his palms and Dean’s own skate over Castiel’s hips, resting under his jacket on the fabric of his shirt. 

And Castiel’s a good kisser, holy fuck. Everything else is forgotten – the bet, his friends being fucking voyeurs, the fact that none of this is real – because Castiel’s kissing him like he means it and so Dean grips tight and hopes it will last.

It’s only when one of Castiel’s hands slips down over his chest, down his stomach and slips underneath his shirt that Dean makes an embarrassing noise against his mouth but Castiel swallows it up, fingers hot on the skin of his stomach.

“C’mon,” Castiel breathes in between kisses.

“What – mmf.”

“Didn’t…realise…you were a…fucking prude. Touch me. Convince them.” Castiel’s voice is rough and low and if that hasn’t already gone straight to his crotch, Castiel pressing closer until there’s no space between them does it.

And despite the reminder of what they’re doing, convincing his friends he’s about to have sex with Castiel Novak, Dean takes the opportunity, knowing he may never get another chance.

He slips both hands underneath Castiel’s shirt, one smoothing up his back as the other skims over his hipbone and then back around and down lower over his ass and Jesus, fuck, he thought maybe he’d be getting another kiss tonight, not this.

Castiel grips him by the front of his shirt, then, pulling him in for another bruising kiss, before dragging him over to the door, Dean’s hands sadly falling away from him as he searches for they key in his pockets.

When he finally gets the door open, he grabs Dean and basically shoves him inside before the door slams behind him.

And just like that it’s over.

Castiel locks the door behind him, Dean still standing completely flustered awkwardly in the middle of the dark entranceway. Castiel turns, sees Dean and chuckles.

“Well, that was fun,” he says, walking past Dean and slipping his shoes off, seemingly already passed it. Dean’s stomach sits heavy with disappointment. Castiel shrugs off his jacket, meeting his eyes. “You can leave in twenty.”

Dean swallows, his half-fried brain already thinking of an excuse. “Uh…yeah, okay, but maybe I should stay longer.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow before his eyes teasingly slow, descend to his crotch, staring there a moment or two as Dean flushes before he flicks his eyes back up. “Hmm, no, twenty is plenty enough time.”

Dean scoffs. “Fuck you.” Castiel laughs lightly although his smile is as wide as ever, clearly very amused with himself. “No, I don’t mean because of that. We should pretend like you asked me to stay for a little while after.”

Castiel narrows his eyes. “Why?”

“So, they’ll have to sit out there longer. You know, to mess with them some more.”

Castiel stares at him for what feels like eons, eyes clearly searching for something and Dean prays he can’t see through him and see how truly pathetic he’s being. 

But finally, he shrugs. “Whatever. If that’s what you want. Shoes off, though.” And then he’s turning and heading up a set of stairs, Dean scrambling to pull off his boots and following after him as soon as he gets his dick to chill the fuck out. 

Castiel’s room is the first door on the left, he observes as he follows him inside, Castiel shutting the door behind him as he takes in the spacious room. 

The walls are a nicely painted blue, with a rumpled bed pushed to one side, an open closet on the other and a desk and bookshelf side by side beside the door. It’s pretty clean, not as clean as Dean’s room – although no boy’s ever is – a few papers and clothes thrown here and there. 

Castiel’s throws his jacket over his desk chair, so Dean does the same. He wanders over to the desk then, eyeing the assignment papers spread about before his eyes are drawn to the pin board above it, littered with what appear to be film quotes.

Some he immediately recognises – others he doesn’t – although they could be from things other than films he supposes.

“Didn’t realise you were such a nerd,” Dean says, turning to see Castiel filing through his closet. Castiel flicks his eyes over his shoulder before he rolls his eyes.

“Shut up.”

Dean laughs, eyes landing on another quote he didn’t see the first time.

_I wish I knew how to quit you._

A sad smile lifts his lips as his eyes fall away. 

“What?” Dean lifts his eyes to find Castiel staring at him. Dean shrugs.

“Nothing. Just imagined your room would look a little different.” Castiel raises his eyebrows. “You know, like I thought it’d be pitch black, walls painted with the blood of your enemies or some shit.”

Castiel shakes his head, mirth in his eyes. “Ha ha. Very funny. Now, turn around.” Now it’s Dean’s turn to raise his eyebrows. Castiel crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m not sitting in my fucking jeans for the rest of the night, am I, so don’t be a pervert and turn around.”

Dean shakes his head before obliging, scanning his eyes over the bookshelf instead. 

“Alright, all clear.” 

Dean turns to find Castiel dressed in grey sweatpants and a loose shirt, socks still clinging to his feet and for some reason, it makes him smile – even if it’s just a small one. 

“So, what?” Castiel asks. “We gonna watch something for an hour or…”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“Alright.” Castiel grabs the laptop on his desk before climbing into his bed, on top of the covers. He flicks his eyes up from the laptop on his lap. “You coming or what?”

Dean tries to restrain his smile as he climbs in next to him until their shoulders are brushing. His hands tangle together in his lap as he watches Castiel pulling up Netflix on his computer.

“Schitt’s Creek?” Castiel says. 

“What?”

Castiel raises an eyebrow. “Do you wanna watch it?”

Dean shrugs. “Yeah, sure.” Castiel’s mouth parts at his casual response.

“You’ve never watched Schitt’s Creek before?” Castiel says, looking and sounding equally scandalised.

“I’ve heard of it.”

Castiel shakes his head. “And you call yourself a film and television connoisseur,” he mutters followed by a self-satisfied chuckle after Dean elbows him in the side. After a few moments of shuffling around, Castiel sets the laptop at the end of the bed, hitting play before he’s snuggling back down into the pillow and Dean’s stomach does a little flip when their shoulders are back to touching, if anything, Castiel curled slightly towards him.

It’s barely a few minutes into the show, Dean’s palms a little sweaty when he decides to grab onto his fading courage and lift an arm up and around the top of Castiel’s pillow, mere inches from his head.

“What are you doing?” comes Castiel’s voice, slightly amused. Dean flicks his gaze down to find his eyes reflect the same amusement although there’s something else hidden behind it. Wonders, perhaps.

Dean shuffles slightly on the mattress. “Getting comfy,” he responds, hoping he sounds as uncaring as he’s trying to.

Castiel’s lips curve up and Dean’s heart flutters but suddenly he’s reaching out, curling his hand around Dean’s wrist and his heart sinks, thinking he’s going to shove Dean’s arm away.

But Dean’s cheeks heat embarrassingly fast when Castiel merely pulls it closer around him, shuffling slightly across until his head is resting on the edge of Dean’s chest, and Dean’s entirely grateful that he’s lying on his left side so he won’t be able to hear the hammering of his heart because _what the fuck, what the fuck._

He swears his brain is in meltdown mode for all he can get out is, “Uh…”

Castiel sighs against him and Dean can tell it’s a little over-exaggerated. “Hmm, you _are_ comfy,” he teases, but he doesn’t get up to move or shuffle away. And after a few minutes, Dean calms down enough to force himself to relax underneath Castiel.

_How the fuck did I end up here? Cuddling with Castiel Novak?_

He almost startles a laugh out of himself at the thought. How did he get here, he wonders, as he gazes down over the curve of Castiel’s jaw, the shape of his lips, the flutter of his lashes. 

Something inside of him sighs and he doesn’t think about how this won’t last. That they’ll be parting soon enough and most likely not crossing paths again. He glances back up to the laptop and allows himself this moment, with this strange, beautiful boy in his arms. 

He attempts to keep his entire focus on what’s happening in front of him on the screen but finds himself slipping a few times, reminded only when Castiel laughs softly at something he has clearly missed.

But before he knows it, Castiel’s pushing himself up from the bed, closing the lid of his laptop and Dean looks down at his watch only to realise it’s already been an hour. 

Castiel runs a hand through his hair, messing it up a little. “Time to go sell this.”

Dean narrows his eyes. “Sell what?” Castiel shoots him an exasperated look. Dean stares back a moment before, “Oh, yeah, we just had sex.”

“Was it so bad that you’ve already forgotten?” Castiel says, smiling when Dean laughs before he gets to his feet, waving Dean after him.

Dean takes one last long look around the room, knowing it will be his last, before he steps out into the hallway and follows Castiel down the stairs. 

“Look good?” Castiel asks, as he stands at the door, running his hand through his hair one last time. Dean huffs as he comes to a halt in front of him. And because he can’t help himself, reaches up to brush a few hairs this way and that, heart sinking lower and lower in his chest.

“Better,” Dean says, eyes flicking down to find Castiel frowning at him. “Uh…”

Castiel suddenly blinks, frown disappearing as though it was never there in the first place. “Here, let me just…” he speaks, as he reaches for Dean’s belt. 

Dean balks, ears flaring red as he shrieks, “What are you doing?” But Castiel merely pulls the end of his belt out from where it’s tucked under the loop.

“Making you look like you didn’t just watch television for an hour,” he says, before pointing at Dean’s face. Dean raises an eyebrow. “Hair.”

“Oh, right,” Dean mutters, before running his own hands through his hair, really wishing that it was Castiel’s hands instead. “Good?”

Castiel gives him a quick once over before nodding. “Good.” And then he’s pulling the door open and stepping out onto the porch, the night air cooling Dean’s skin as he follows. 

One glance shows, Cillian’s car is still parked across the road, the three boys still inside. He sees vague movement through the dark windows – the three of them probably excited the waiting is finally over. 

Dean turns to face Castiel on the porch again, both of them in the exact same position as an hour ago. Castiel’s staring at him carefully, something unreadable in his eyes.

Dean rocks back on his heels, hands clasped together in front of him. “So…this is it, huh?”

“Well, the next step would be fake proposal but I don’t think anyone would be buying that.” Dean chuckles lightly, Castiel’s lips quirking up.

Castiel doesn’t say anything further, however, nor does he move to do anything. Dean would give anything to have one last kiss - and the urge to lean forward and grasp the sides of Castiel’s face almost has him doing it. 

But Castiel’s just standing there, looking at him strangely again and he thinks maybe that would be overstepping. That perhaps Castiel just wants him to leave. And then they’ll stage a break up and that’ll be it.

Dean forces a cheery smile. “Alright, I’d better get on, then. See you in class.” 

He’s turning to leave when Castiel takes a step forward and suddenly there are hands gripping onto the lapels of his jacket and he’s being pulled down into a kiss. Dean makes a surprised sound before his eyes slip shut and his hands instinctively come up to grasp at Castiel’s hips. And then he’s kissing Castiel back, slow and careful, their noses brushing and something stutters inside of him.

Something like hope.

But then, he’s being pushed away, hands hanging empty in the air and he looks up to find Castiel staring at the ground, biting his lip and Dean swears his cheeks are red.

Dean watches the bob of Castiel’s throat as he swallows, the silence around them thick, before Castiel glances up to meet his eyes and if it wasn’t so dark, he’d think there’s a sadness in his gaze as he says, “Gotta sell it, right?”

Dean only stares at him and after a few quiet moments, Castiel looks away, as though Dean’s gaze is too heavy. “See you later, Dean,” he says, and it snaps Dean back to the present. Right. His friends are watching and he needs to leave before something becomes suspicious. And something in Castiel’s tone suggests that it’s what is wanted too.

“Yeah, see you later, Cas.” He hesitates only a moment but Castiel doesn’t meet his eyes. Dean’s chest deflates and with a heavy heart, he takes the few steps down from the porch and heads to where his baby is still sitting in the driveway. By the time he’s safely inside, he looks up to find Castiel gone.

He stares at his lap a moment before starting the car and reversing out onto the street, all the while thinking he shouldn’t have agreed to this stupid bet in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment below or leave some kudos if you enjoyed! Thanks so much for reading ♥
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://angvlicmish.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chapter 4

Monday passes in a blur, Dean spending most of the dreary day bent over his desk studying – and when he isn’t so distracted, finding himself focusing on the feeling in his chest that makes him believe his heart has physically sunk to the bottom of his stomach.

He blares the word like a flashlight in his mind over and over: cheater, cheater, cheater but comes out feeling worse for it because how the fuck did he go fall for Castiel Novak?

The jibes Seb makes all day don’t make him feel any better – still pressing him for details, as both him and Brady did last night – and neither do the texts he receives. The ones asking about how they should go about doing this whole break up thing. But the worst of it is that Castiel doesn’t ask when, instead just texting that they should do it tomorrow, especially since his friends keep badgering him about when he’s gonna reveal all to Castiel.

And he knows he shouldn’t have expected any different. Why the fuck would Castiel like him back in the first place and _why the fuck do I still want him to?_

But he gets through the day somehow and suddenly it’s midnight and he’s texting back ‘ _Sounds good’_ to the plan tomorrow before throwing his phone to the side and lying staring at the ceiling listening to Seb’s snores wishing tomorrow will never come.

✧ ✧ ✧

Dean halts in his step when he sees Castiel’s waiting at the bottom of the stairs outside his dorm building. His back is to Dean, so he doesn’t notice him standing there. Dean takes the moment to let his gaze drift over him, his hands shoved in his pockets, ears free of earbuds for the first time ever. He looks to the side, allowing Dean’s eyes to fall to the curve of his jaw, the set line of his mouth and there’s something odd about it. And he thinks it may have to do with the slump of his shoulders when Castiel turns around as though he could feel someone staring and catches his eyes. 

And yet he doesn’t smirk or make some snipe about how he’s taking his time staring. He smiles, slight and sincere. 

Dean’s heart seizes in his chest and he almost forgets to smile back. It’ll all be over soon and then he can go back to thinking about Castiel Novak in passing and not in every spare moment of his day. 

“So, this is it, then? The jig is up?” Dean says, as he steps down beside Castiel, close enough that their arms brush. 

Castiel huffs. There’s a softness about him, Dean sees, now that he’s up close. In his eyes and the quirk of his lips. “Seems like it.”

Dean nods, scraping at some dirt on the pavement with the toe of his boot. “Well, uh, I had fun. Don’t spend that money too quickly.”

“Oh, I’ll be savouring it.” Castiel grins and Dean laughs half-heartedly. “So, don’t fuck it up, cause there’s no way in hell I’m giving this money back. Just say something mean like I’m a dick or rude or whatever the fuck you think of, and if I look mad or sad, don’t ruin it, I’ll play my part, you play yours, alright?”

“Alright,” Dean agrees before they fall into a gentle silence. Dean stares at the pavement, palms a little sweaty where they hang awkwardly at his sides and he wants to say something more, something that actually means something but he’s not sure he could handle Castiel laughing at him or thinking whatever he says is stupid. 

When he glances back up, Castiel’s eyes are already on him, open and non-judgemental. And he almost says something, opens his mouth but the only thing that comes out is, “I guess we should go sell it, then, shall we?” 

Castiel blinks, eyes falling and for a moment there it almost looks – almost seems--

He smiles, all charming and handsome and Dean never thought a stupid fake break up could ever feel so real. 

✧ ✧ ✧

Brady and Seb are sitting at the same table where this all began, impatiently waiting for them to arrive. Cillian is unsurprisingly absent - after Dean told them about how he would reveal all to Castiel he decided he wanted no part in it even if the guy in question is some ‘cold hearted cheater’. 

So, at least one of his friends has standards. 

There are a few other students in the park but none of them appear to notice the four of them.

“Hey, man. Cas,” Brady nods as they settle down on either side of the table, Castiel shooting Brady an unimpressed look beside him. And he doesn’t think he’s ever seen either of his friends so nervous but god, is it satisfying. 

“So…” Seb says, pointedly eyeing Dean as though he’s forgotten why they’re here. 

Dean sighs, finally meeting Castiel’s eyes across the table. Castiel holds them and after a moment or so, he nods, merely a slight tilt of his chin.

“Cas,” he starts, and finally ends, “I got something to tell you. I didn’t bring you here to study today.” Castiel raises a convincing eyebrow and he’s pretty sure neither of his friends are breathing when he says, “This – us – it’s not real.”

Castiel snorts. “The fuck are you talking about, Winchester?” And before Dean can say anything else, he feels Castiel’s boot under the table rest against his own. As if for comfort. As if to tell him it’s okay. And something stumbles inside of him. 

He swallows. “This. It was a bet. They--” he nods to Seb and Brady, “bet me that I couldn’t get a date with you.”

Castiel’s eyes darken, shoulders stiffening and his gaze flicks to Seb and Brady before it settles back on Dean. 

“Bullshit,” he says.

Dean sits a littler straighter. “And then they bet me I couldn’t get a kiss. And, well… I think you know what else.” And as he says it, he thinks how could his friends possibly believe he would do this to someone? Even if that someone is supposed to be a cheater. Sure, he was up for the first bet but that was because he was certain he would lose. 

Castiel stares at him now, eyes dark. And even though he knows this isn’t real, he can feel the hairs raise on the back of his neck, the air around them tense. 

And Dean almost thinks he's not gonna say anything when he lurches over the table, hands out reaching for him and Dean nearly falls off the bench with how far he skids back on his seat, his heart jumping in his chest as Castiel screams, “Fuck you, you fucking piece of shit!” but Castiel’s suddenly being yanked back, Brady grabbing him from behind. 

Dean almost stands up to intervene, not wanting Brady to hurt him by thinking Castiel was actually going to attack him but Castiel shoves him away, pushing himself to his feet, chest heaving, hands in fists at his sides. 

“I’ll fucking kill all of you,” Castiel spits, stepping towards him, a hand gripping the front of his shirt but Dean stands, shoves a hand between them to hold Castiel at length.

“You see that’s the thing, Cas.” Seb and Brady are standing now too, watching carefully, clearly both stunned by Castiel’s outburst. And now he needs to finally end it. “You act all hard, probably think it too. But you’re not. You’re so fucking easy.” He flicks his eyes to Brady and Seb to watch for their reactions, make sure they’re getting pretty fucking convinced. Castiel’s grip loosens on his shirt, his hard gaze faltering. “You probably don’t even mean to cheat, you’re just that easy, man, getting on your knees for just about anybody.” Around him, he notices a few students beginning to look in his direction and shit, it’s time to wrap this up before anyone can investigate. “I mean, fuck, Cas, with your reputation how’d you think I actually wanted to be with you?”

He’s breathing hard when he’s finally done and Brady’s trying to hide his laugh behind his hand and he thinks maybe they’ve done it, maybe they've actually convinced his idiot friends that this was all real when he finally looks at Castiel properly and wavers. 

Because Castiel’s eyes are glimmering and he looks as though Dean’s just slapped him across the face. And Dean hesitates because he’s not that good of an actor, right?

Then he’s yanking out of Dean’s grasp, shoving him backwards a step before he turns and strides away and Dean watches him go – watches him until he’s breaking into a run and sprinting away from them as fast as he can until Dean can’t see him anymore.

And Brady and Seb are slapping him on the back and saying some shit about how that was fucking harsh but he fucking deserved it anyway but Dean can’t hear them. All he can see is the broken look on Castiel’s face and he feels like there’s something he doesn’t know – something Castiel hasn’t told him because that wasn’t just acting, was it?

Why should Castiel care about what he said anyway? He’s the one that cheated on his past boyfriends. He _should_ feel bad about that. And why is he worrying about what Castiel feels in the first place?

But he knows he won’t be able to stop. Not when he misses him already. 

It’s about an hour before Seb and Brady finally let him leave and head back to his dorm. When he does he slumps down on his bed and pulls his phone out. He bites his lip, pondering a moment what he should say before he settles for something simple.

_**Dean Winchester** _

_All good?_

It’s not too long before he gets a response.

_**Castiel Fucking Novak !!** _

_all good. nice fucking around with you dean_

Dean stares at the words, phone gripped tightly in his hand, until his screen darkens.

✧ ✧ ✧

Dean stares at the back of Castiel’s head throughout the entire class. But Castiel doesn’t look at him once nor did he even acknowledge him when he passed Dean to find his seat. And it’s the final nail in the coffin. That this is over.

Dean still misses him. But it’s only been two days. So maybe after a week he’ll forget about Castiel all together and this fucking annoying miserable feeling will finally vacate his body. 

It doesn’t help that things haven’t exactly gone to plan. He’s already received a bunch of texts from people asking what he was doing with Castiel Novak and that they heard something went down on Tuesday. It’s obvious that someone sitting in the park saw and started talking. He’s already sworn Brady and Seb – and Cillian of course – to secrecy. He’s not surprised that something got out but he still feels kind of shit about it, even if Castiel was the one who leaped over the table and probably attracted some unwanted attention. He doesn’t deserve people trying to smear his name even more. 

With ten minutes until the end of the class, the professor finally announces he’ll have their grades for the assignment up online by Monday. 

When everyone stands to finally leave, Dean packs away his laptop slowly, staying firmly in his seat.

Castiel stands in front of him, slinging his bag over his shoulder and Dean swallows, pushing himself up from his seat. But Castiel’s head is down, eyes on his phone as he walks straight past him, without even a glance in his direction.

✧ ✧ ✧

Dean’s walking across the park on a sunny Wednesday afternoon when he stops. Because other than last Thursday in class – where Castiel still didn’t look at him even after they got an A on the assignment and for some stupid reason Dean thought he would say something - he hasn’t seen Castiel in the two weeks it’s been since they ‘broke up’. And there he is, lying on his back on a park chair, legs crossed at the ankles, book held up above him as he reads. 

And something inside of him sighs at the sight. At how peaceful he looks, as he lies there alone, oblivious to the world around him. 

Dean lets his eyes slip shut, hands tightening around the straps on his backpack. He tells himself to keep walking. But when he opens his eyes, finding Castiel still there, still focusing on his stupid book, he thinks fuck it.

Because who said they couldn’t hang out? Who said they couldn’t be friends? And even though his heart beats for something different, he knows he could never even if Castiel miraculously wanted it because he’d be too terrified of Castiel cheating like he’s done so many times before – but that doesn’t mean they can’t be friends, right? At least, friends somewhere where his other friends can’t see even though he should probably decide upon some time to finally reveal to them what the fuck happened because the fun’s over and he’s not sure how long he can hold onto the secret anyway.

His feet are already carrying him over, however, before he can think much more about it. When he gets there, he bends down, resting his arms on the back of the park chair and leans over until his face is in line with that goddamn book, which Castiel still hasn’t looked away from.

“What’s up, Novak?” Dean says, eyes flicking up for a moment to make sure no one’s watching – not wanting to stir up any more rumours. 

Finally, _finally_ , he lets the book drop to his chest revealing a frown and narrowed blue eyes underneath.

He stares at Dean a moment before he says, “Thought we broke up.” And then that damn book is sliding right back up into place above him. 

“Very funny. What’re you reading?” He reaches down to nudge the book away so he can at least see Castiel’s face but he’s already sitting up, book suddenly out of reach. 

“Are you sure you should be here? What if your friends see and figure it out?” 

Dean scoffs. “Dude, c’mon, you can’t really be worried about that.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow. “Well, we _did_ scam them of hundreds of dollars and by no circumstance am I giving my share back.” Dean frowns, because is he really worried about that?

“Yeah, yeah, so what’re you doing later?”

Castiel holds his gaze. “Why?”

Dean shrugs. “I don’t know.” Why does this feel like an interrogation? “Maybe I wanna hang out. You’re kind of fun when you’re not being uptight,” he says, grinning wide but Castiel doesn’t smile back, only glances down at his book, fingers running over the torn spine. He doesn’t answer for a few moments as though he’s thinking about it.

But then, “Nah, I’m busy.”

Dean’s jaw ticks. “With what?”

“Studying.”

“I’ll study with you.”

Castiel looks at him, frustration clear in his eyes. “I like to study alone.”

“Alright, what about tomorrow after class?”

“Busy.”

Dean pauses, annoyance flaring in his gut. “Okay, well, what about next week?”

“Just fucking lay off it, Dean,” he says, harsh and irritated. “Maybe I just don’t want to hang out.” 

Dean’s chest tightens, stomach twisting and he swallows down the hurt that climbs up his throat. He huffs a laugh, any kind of hope he had that maybe this was something disappearing before him. Because he supposes Castiel did to him what he’s done to everyone else. Made him feel something and left him in the fucking dirt for it.

“Wow,” he sniffs, standing and making sure he’s looking Castiel straight in the eye when he says, “Guess you really are as cold-hearted as they say.” 

He doesn’t look back when he walks away, wishing his feelings for Castiel Novak would fade as quickly as the park behind him.

✧ ✧ ✧

Fucking bullshit. It’s all fucking bullshit. Castiel told him to basically fuck off right to his face and yet here he is, unable to even have a good Friday night drinking it up and maybe even catching somebody’s eyes without feeling like someone’s punched him in the gut. 

Seb’s leaning heavily against his shoulder, breath smelling putrid with whatever concoction he’s drinking. The pub’s full to the brim with college students tonight, drinking and dancing, chatting away and chatting up.

“All I’m saying,” Seb says, one drink away from slurring, “is if my gaydar is right, which dude c’mon when have I been wrong?”

“Like all the fucking time,” Brady interjects. Seb waves him off, leaning even further into Dean’s personal space.

“That dude over there is definitely giving you horizontal tango vibes, if you know what I’m saying,” Seb chuckles, amused by himself. 

Dean takes another swig of his beer before getting back to picking at the label. He doesn’t even bother to look up at this dude Seb ‘claims’ is looking his way. Because he’s not Castiel. 

“Not feelin’ it tonight,” he mutters. 

“C’mon, man, you deserve it. Puttin’ that cheater in his place,” Seb says, and Dean finally sighs, leaning back in his seat. Cillian frowns at him from beside Brady, something probing in his eyes. 

Dean huffs, shooting him a weak smile. “I’m fine, dude, thanks,” he says to Seb, “But, uh, just been really tired lately, studying for exams and shit. Think I might get back early, if that’s alright.

“Oh, c’mon, man. You didn’t even finish your drink,” Brady complains. Dean rolls his eyes before lifting the bottle to his lips and draining it in one long gulp. 

“There you go,” he says, placing the bottle back on the table.

Brady laughs. “Alright, man, Cillian and I’ll make sure this idiot gets back to your dorm in one piece.” 

Cillian merely nods his head, oddly quiet – and that’s saying something considering how quiet he is compared to Seb and Brady – but Dean just nods back before turning and heading to the exit, feeling like he might suffocate if he doesn’t get out into the fresh air soon.

He hears his name being called behind him – Bela – and walks faster, not wanting to deal with anyone else tonight. 

When he finally pushes through the doors and outside, he lets out a deep satisfying breath. 

It’s cold out and the streets are bare now at this late hour – everyone packed inside the pub or bars around town.

He rubs his hands together, curling his jacket tighter around his body before he begins walking down the street, heading for his car when he hears raised voices.

He rounds the corner to the carpark behind the pub only to find two guys, standing a mere metre apart, and--

Dean’s heart jumps in his chest.

Because it’s not just two guys. 

One of them is Castiel. 

And it looks as though they’re arguing with each other but Dean can’t hear what they’re saying over the loud thumping of music coming from inside the pub from where he’s standing frozen at the entrance to the carpark.

He feels himself take a step forward, his first instinct to go over and ask if everything’s okay but he stops himself. He knows Castiel wouldn’t want him to. Would probably tell him off for being here in the first place. 

Castiel stops whatever it is he’s saying to run a frustrated hand down his face as the other guy – a little taller, and a maybe a few years older - continues to yell at him.

Castiel suddenly throws his arms out to the side and yells something back and before he’s even finished saying whatever it is he’s saying, the guy punches him right in the face.

Castiel drops like a stone to the cement.

Dean’s sprinting over before he can even think about it. 

“Hey! Get the fuck away from him!” The guy looks to him then, eyes narrowed and filled with rage but he doesn’t step away. 

Castiel doesn’t look to him though, hand to his bloodied nose, eyes on the cement in front of him, glazed over in shock. Dean falls to his knees beside him, one hand falling to his back, the other grabbing the hand that’s bloodied from his nose.

“Are you alright?” he asks quietly and it must snap him out of his daze because Castiel finally looks at him, eyes widening before he shakes his head.

“I’m fine,” he says, harsh and abrupt.

“Who’s this, huh? Your new boyfriend?” Dean ignores the guy other than glancing towards him to make sure he’s not going to start swinging again.

With one hand on Castiel’s waist, the other on his arm, he helps him to his feet. “Let me take you home.”

The guy laughs, a bitter and contemptible sound. “Don’t waste your breath. He’s not fucking worth it. Good for sucking dick, nothing else,” he spits.

Castiel tenses beneath him and Dean keeps his grip on him as he launches himself at the guy, barely holding him back. “Fuck you!” Castiel screams, pulling and twisting in Dean’s arms but he doesn’t let him go. “Piece of shit, don’t ever try to fucking contact me again!”

The guy stares at him a moment, eyes flitting to Dean, before he shakes his head and walks off, mumbling something Dean’s sure he doesn’t want to hear under his breath. 

Castiel’s chest is heaving, finally falling limp in his arms. 

Dean swallows, heart pounding. What the fuck is going on?

“C’mon, let me drive you home,” he says, keeping his voice calm. 

“Fucking prick,” Castiel mutters under his breath, but other than that doesn’t say anything else. So, Dean takes it as a yes and guides him to the impala where he helps him into the passenger seat where gratefully his nose has stopped bleeding. 

It’s only when he’s fumbling for the keys beside Castiel in the driver’s seat that he notices the slight tremor in his own hands. Thankfully, Castiel’s not paying him any attention, head turned to look out the window.

Dean pulls out onto the road in silence, knowing Castiel doesn’t want to talk right now – not with the way he’s curled away from him, trying to hide the trembling of his shoulders from Dean.

They’re at a stoplight when Dean finally glances over properly at him and it’s then that he sees the edge of tears on his cheek. Dean swallows, chest tightening and all he wants is to reach out and hold him, tuck him closely into his chest. 

He curses whoever the fuck that guy was for hurting Castiel like this – for hitting him like that. It was most likely that ex that kept bugging Castiel when they were hanging out but he still won’t ask. It’s not his business. 

There’s no car in the driveway when he pulls up and Castiel’s house is dark like it was the night they came here to stage sex. It suddenly all seems far, far away. 

Dean clears his throat as he pulls his keys out of the ignition, glancing to Castiel where he’s still curled against the window. “C’mon, let’s get you insi--”

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel starts, cutting him off, wiping his cheek with the palm of his hand and he finally looks at him. Dean’s heart breaks. His nose and lip are still bloodied but now his cheeks are wet and his eyes – his eyes hold barely hidden misery. “But there’s no need for that. I’ll be fine on my own.”

He turns away, a finality in his tone even though his voice is weak from crying, and gets out of the car, the door closing with a slam behind him. Dean only sits there for a moment before he follows him out.

“Cas, just wait,” he says, jogging after him up onto the porch. “I want to make sure you’re alright. He hit you.” His voice cracks over the word but Castiel doesn’t look up from where he’s fumbling with his keys before the door with his own trembling hands.

“I’m fine,” he says, and Dean runs a frustrated hand through his hair, every part of him wanting to stay and see that he’s okay.

“Let me help you clean up at least.”

Castiel stops then, eyes squeezing shut. His lip wobbles where it’s pressed into a thin line and then he’s meeting his eyes before he speaks, voice raised, “Just _stop_. Stop trying to be so _fucking_ chivalrous. I know you’re just an asshole like everyone else.”

Dean’s mouth parts and he steps back as though he’s been slapped. 

“Excuse me?” he starts, tone defensive, his own voice raising. “I’ve never done anything to you!”

Castiel’s eyes drain of any anger they held and all they’re left with is unbearable sadness. A tear falls down his cheek but his eyes don’t leave Dean’s.

And then, “Loner too. Doesn’t have any friends. He’d probably cheat them over somehow anyway.”

Dean stares at him, the horror washing over him and he feels as though he might be sick. “Cas…” His voice is quiet, wavering. “I didn’t mean--”

“Cold hearted prick who cheated on all his past boyfriends.”

Dean stares at him, not knowing what to say because, because--

Castiel smiles an awful, dejected smile. “You still believe it, don’t you? After all we…” He blinks back tears, shaking his head before he turns for the door and Dean’s heart rises in his throat.

“Cas, please, I--” Dean reaches for him, grabs him by the shoulder but Castiel jerks away from him as though burned. 

His eyes are wild with rage. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

Dean breathes heavily, eyes stinging. “I didn’t mean – it’s hard to explain.”

Castiel looks at him, disappointment clear in his eyes. “Yeah, it always is.” 

Dean stands there, arms limp at his sides, watching as Castiel unlocks the door.

“Cas,” he breathes, one last desperate attempt but Castiel doesn’t give it to him, slamming the door shut mere inches from his face. 

Dean’s eyes fall closed, head hanging and the tears finally fall silently as the ache in his chest grows. 

He doesn’t know how he gets his feet moving underneath him but somehow, he’s back in the impala, vision blurring but he doesn’t allow himself to feel it. He doesn’t deserve it. So, he wipes his eyes, clears the tears from his cheeks and drives away.

The dorm is still thankfully vacant when he finally arrives back and because he doesn’t know what else to do he pulls out his phone and calls Castiel. But he doesn’t pick up. Nor when he calls him the second time or the third time when he finally leaves a message, voice breaking as he says, “Cas, I’m sorry. Please call me back.”

His phone pings about ten minutes later but it’s only a text.

_**Castiel Fucking Novak !!** _

_sorry, castiel can’t come to the phone right now. he’s probably sucking his professor’s dick_

Everything hurts more than he ever thought it could. And as he lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, all he can hear is – _You still believe it, don’t you? –_ over and over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for all the wonderful comments so far and for all of those supporting me over on my tumblr! It's been making me very excited to share each chapter with you all!
> 
> Comment below or leave some kudos if you enjoyed! Thanks so much for reading ♥
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://angvlicmish.tumblr.com/)


	5. Chapter 5

He didn’t think things could get much worse at this point. He was wrong. Monday rolls around and punches him in the gut. 

Because before he’s even made it to the library to study, three people have already come up to him, hailing him a champ for taking the cheater down a peg. 

He turns on his heel and storms back to the dorm without a second thought and thankfully, catches Seb right before he’s leaving.

“Did you fucking tell anybody?” Dean shouts, and Seb flinches away. 

“What the fuck, dude! The hell are you talking about?” 

“The bet! Did you tell anybody about the fucking bet!”

“Calm down, Christ, Dean, and no, I didn’t tell anybody.”

Dean paces the room, mind racing a mile a minute. “What about Brady, Cill--”

“They wouldn’t have told anybody, we promised we wouldn’t.” And Dean knows it’s true. His friends might be assholes sometimes but they wouldn’t do that especially after they promised him. “Why? Dean.” He’s startled by a hand on his shoulder. “What the hell’s going on?”

“They know. Everybody knows about the bet. People have been coming up all morning fucking celebrating me for what I did to him.”

Seb frowns. “Shit, man, I’m sorry. But I mean, c’mon, he kind of deserved it.”

“No, he fucking didn’t! No one fucking deserves that!”

Seb takes a step back. “Okay, Jesus, just calm down, alright. Look I’m sorry, I really need to get to class, but the three of us didn’t fucking say anything to anybody, alright?”

Dean shakes his head. Then how the fuck does anyone know? Did the people who saw them fighting just figure it all out?

“Yeah, whatever,” he says, waving Seb away and he doesn’t even hear him say goodbye when he finally leaves.

He swears he’s paced the room a hundred times when it finally hits him. “Shit. Fucking shit.” Bela. He fucking let Brady tell Bela about it when he first went out with Castiel. She must have heard about the fight and figured it was part of the bet and that it was over and then told everyone, fuck.

Unsurprisingly, Castiel doesn’t pick up his phone but he still tries it six times before bothering to leave a message. 

“Cas, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen but everyone knows about the bet – they think it’s all real and it’s my fault, I fucked up and this girl knew about the bet on our first date and she must have heard about the fight and – and shit, Cas, I’m sorry, please call me back and I can tell everyone it’s not true, I’ll do anything, please, please call me back.” But his words are empty even to his own ears. It doesn’t matter what he says now. A rumour involving Castiel Novak isn’t just going to go away. 

✧ ✧ ✧

Castiel doesn’t call him back. And a day later, there’s already more rumours spreading. That finally after not dating for a while, Castiel Novak got a new boyfriend and they immediately found him cheating with someone else. And they fought. And he punched Castiel right in the face.

Dean hasn’t seen him since that night but from how hard he got hit, he knows it’s probably bad. 

He’s thinking he might actually get to see him on Thursday in class as he’s standing in line at the coffee van when suddenly there’s commotion behind him, those next to him muttering to their friends as they look towards something.

And Dean turns to find his gut twisting. 

Because there he is.

Stalking across campus behind them and even from here Dean can see it. A mottled dark yellow spreading over his nose onto his cheek just below his right eye. Dean steps out of the line he’s standing in, trying to lower his head so no one notices who he is as he swerves between students milling around for their morning coffee but Dean’s barely stepped out of the crowd when he sees Castiel’s not alone anymore.

He’s striding further away, quicker now, three jocks following close behind. And one of them has money in his hand and he’s pushing it in Castiel’s face and even though he’s ignoring them, Dean can see the stiffness of his shoulders, the hands that squeeze tightly around the straps of his backpack. 

And the jock with the money finally leans in closer, saying something and suddenly Castiel turns and shoves him as hard as he can. All around him there’s muffled laughter and gasps. But the jock only stumbles back a few steps, laughing with his friends as Castiel turns once more and continues to stride away, almost running and soon he’s rounding the corner to the science building and he’s gone.

And Dean wants to fucking punch them. Wants to sock all three of them in their stupid faces. And everyone who fucking laughed at him.

But who the fuck is he to talk? 

He keeps his head down as he follows after Castiel but by the time he rounds the science building he’s nowhere in sight. 

Dean stands there for a long while, heart hanging in shame.

✧ ✧ ✧

Dean texts him more times than he can count but Castiel never responds. He’s surprised he hasn’t just blocked Dean’s number. Maybe that means something.

Or maybe he’s just kidding himself.

All he knows is if he doesn’t do something soon he might never get the chance to. So, this is it. 

Castiel didn’t acknowledge him when he passed him to walk into class, not that Dean expected him to. But he still came to class. He’s still here, sitting two seats in front and one to the left where he always does and that’s enough.

He doesn’t think he’s ever sat through a more excruciating hour in his entire life but finally it’s over because the professor is packing it up and telling them he’ll see them next week and Castiel’s shoving his things into his backpack.

Dean’s heart spikes, his own things already packed away, ready to follow Castiel out. He’s not going to confront him in here – he doesn’t want to make Castiel feel any more humiliated than he already fucking has.

As expected, Castiel stands and strides past him, eyes trained on the door. He’s the first out and Dean hopes no one notices how quickly he follows him into the hallway, passing a couple of students waiting for their own class to begin, a few of which flick their eyes Castiel’s way.

He waits until Castiel’s pushing through the door and out into the night, heading for his usual route through the park when he picks up his speed. And thank god for the night, because no one seems to notice Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak passing by them into the wide-open space. The park seems bare at this time, studying here useless with so little light and Dean’s grateful because at least it means that this time, no one will hear them. That’s if Castiel even lets him talk.

He swallows, grasping his courage tightly. “Cas,” he says, only a few steps away from him now.

Castiel barely turns his head. “Stop fucking following me.” He doesn’t stop walking but he doesn’t resist when Dean grabs his arm lightly.

“Cas, c’mon, please. Just give me a chance to talk.”

Castiel finally stops, Dean letting his hand slip away. His back is to Dean, shoulders tense. He shakes his head before finally turning to face him.

“Why? Why should I give you a chance?”

Dean swallows, everything he’d planned to say disappearing on his tongue. His voice is weak when he says, “Because it was a mistake.”

Castiel rolls his eyes, as if he expected nothing less, already turning away but Dean reaches out again.

“Cas, please.”

Castiel shrugs out from his grip, voice louder now, with a little more venom, when he says, “Just fuck off, Dean.”

And maybe he should. Maybe he should turn on his heel and walk away. But he can’t do anything but follow after Castiel, almost running after him, his desperation palpable. 

“Cas, jesus, just listen to me, _please_.”

Castiel whips around, almost causing Dean to run right into him, emotion wild in his eyes. “I don’t give a fuck about what you have to say!”

Dean takes a step back. And it aches, physically aches, and he doesn’t know why he thought this would go differently. Doesn’t know why he thought it wouldn’t end like this.

And he almost gives up. Because Castiel just shouted in his face that he didn’t care for his words. And the anger is so clear. The hatred. 

But there’s something else there. In his eyes. It’s so clear.

He’s quiet, desperate, when he says, “Then at least speak to me. At least say something.”

Castiel stares at him for a long while and then – he sees it. He sees him crumple, the flame in his eyes flickering out, revealing the crippling sadness beneath. 

“What do you want me to say?” he says, his voice choked with emotion. “That since I can remember my own mum was telling me what a waste of space I was until my dad finally got a divorce and moved us away from her?”

Dean stands still, as everything around him slips away, Castiel the only thing he can see. The words between them hang heavy, almost suffocating. 

“That when I was seventeen I got my first boyfriend and I was so, so happy because it meant that someone other than my dad actually loved me, right?” And Dean doesn’t want to hear it, doesn’t want to know how fucking wrong he’s been – how fucking wrong they’ve all been. “And that he was popular.” Castiel laughs. “And he noticed me. And that meant that suddenly everyone else noticed me too.” Any mirth in his eyes fades and Dean can see the way he swallows, the way he breathes before he mouths the words like they’re painful to get out. “And that I found him cheating on me right after I said I wasn’t ready to suck his dick.”

Dean’s eyes sting and he knows. He knows, he knows, he knows.

“That after I fought with him and broke it off he spread rumours that I was the cold-hearted asshole who cheated on him with every guy I could find. And because I was a fucking nobody, no one listened when I said it wasn’t true.”

Castiel looks at him, and he knows Dean understands now how wrong he is. And he can’t do anything about it. And there’s this feeling in his chest, crawling up his throat and, “Cas,” he breathes, because he can’t do fucking _anything_ about it.

The tension in Castiel’s shoulders melts away and he looks at Dean with nothing but misery. 

“What do you want me to say?” he says, and it comes out even more broken than before.

“I’m so sorry,” Dean says, almost pleading it but Castiel doesn’t hear him.

“That when I finally got another boyfriend two years later, all I did was suck his dick so he wouldn’t cheat on me. And then the one night I wasn’t in the fucking mood he tried to come onto me anyway and when I resisted he told me how fucking difficult and worthless I was before he left to fuck someone else.” Castiel pauses for breath and Dean’s chest feels like it’s caving in, like it’s crushing him. 

“But don’t worry because the next week he apologised and said it would never happen again, even told me he loved me, and I settled because everyone else had already made up their mind about me in this stupid fucking town so with my reputation I was lucky he even wanted to spend time with me.”

And it rises in his throat, the bile, the tears and _I did, I did, I do._

Castiel’s lip trembles and he can see the tears glimmering in his eyes, on the edge of falling. “I only broke it off with him when some guy came onto me and I told him like a good fucking boyfriend and all he fucking did was accuse me of actually cheating on him because that’s what I do, right?” His voice cracks and he’s crying now, tears streaming down his cheeks and Dean would give anything to brush them away. “He still even badgers me now. Or at least up until that night you saw us. Just to tell me I wasn’t shit and then ask if we could fuck again.” 

Dean takes a step forward. “Cas--”

“And then the third one came along.” Castiel’s tears fall freely now and he doesn’t move to wipe them away – doesn’t take his eyes away from Dean – only looks at him as though--

_Oh._

And Castiel sees it. Sees that he understands.

“And he was the worst. Because I actually thought he was nice. Because I kinda liked him.” He laughs, short and miserable. “I actually had this fucking lame crush on him. But turns out it wasn’t even real because he was only doing it because his friends bet him to.”

Dean’s eyes fall away, unable to see such bare pain in those blue eyes. Pain he caused. 

“I didn’t…” he starts, but words fail him. Because what can he say? What is there to say?

“Didn’t what?” Castiel snaps, and Dean looks up, hold his eyes.

“I _really_ like you.” 

Castiel huffs. “Right. Is that why you took on the bet in the first place? Because you thought you’d actually like me?”

Dean looks at him and he has nothing to say. Because they both know the answer. 

So, he doesn’t know why he says, “Then why’d you do it? Why’d you go along with it?” Maybe just to say something. 

But Castiel seems taken aback by it. For the first time, unable to speak. And there’s something there – in his eyes – but then he blinks and it’s gone.

“You were offering fucking money, isn’t it obvious?” Castiel’s eyes fall away before he shakes his head and turns and Dean’s heart jumps in his chest, knowing that if he lets Castiel turn away now he might not get another chance.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m so fucking sorry,” and he’s begging now, “but it was a mistake. I didn’t know and I swear I’ll make it up to you, I swear, Cas.”

Castiel’s still half turned, eyes on the ground and he doesn’t respond for a moment and he thinks – he hopes – he’s finally gotten to him.

“You know, they’ve all said the same thing at one point or another.” His voice is soft and damning. Any hope left withers inside of him. “It took me a long fucking time to figure out that I don’t deserve to be treated like shit. But I have. And from this point forward,” he looks up then and Dean knows it’s over, “I won’t settle for less.”

Dean’s mouth parts around phantom words, his throat tight, eyes stinging. But nothing comes out. 

Castiel looks almost…disappointed.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” He smiles a sad, sad smile. “Goodbye, Dean.”

And he can’t do anything as Castiel finally walks away, the darkness consuming him and Dean continues to stand there long after he’s gone, a dull ache in his chest, silent tears staining his face, all the while, knowing that he just lost something that perhaps meant more to him than he ever knew.

✧ ✧ ✧

“You ever gonna get up?”

Dean doesn’t bother opening his eyes, keeping his head firmly planted on his pillow.

“What’re you even moping about anyway? It’s been almost a week, dude, at least tell me.”

Dean only burrows further under his sheets. 

“Dean.” Suddenly, the sheets are being ripped away and there’s a hand on his shoulder, pushing him down onto his back until he’s squinting up into Seb’s annoying face. “Dude, seriously, do I need to like call your parents or something?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “No, for fuck’s sake, I’m fine. Just leave me alone.” But Seb’s hand doesn’t budge from where he’s holding him down.

“No, you’re not. You’ve been fucking walking around all week like a sad sack, you didn’t even go to class on Thursday and you won’t even come out for a drink with us. And now you want me to believe you’re _fine_?”

“What, like I can’t be sad every once in a while? Don’t give me that boys don’t cry bullshit.”

Seb shakes his head. “I’m not--” He pauses, staring at Dean a moment before sighing. “Whatever, man, I gotta go, but I’m trying to help, actually.”

Seb stalks away, grabbing his things before heading to the door and Dean feels guilt simmering inside of him. 

“You better not still be in bed when I get back or else I’ll personally drag you out myself. Can’t keep yourself cramped up in here forever.” And with that, the door is slamming shut behind him and Dean’s left alone in the silence, with nothing but himself and the shitty ache in his chest that keeps pulling him further and further into the mattress.

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way before. Not even after he found out his first girlfriend had cheated on him. Perhaps because he doesn’t ever remember feeling this way about her. And because back then it wasn’t him that did the shitty thing. Now his pain is riddled with the guilt and shame of knowing he’s the one who fucked up.

He barely feels present. He’s still been to all of his classes except for the one he has with Castiel – he doesn’t think he could bear it – but none of them were enough to snap him out of his daze.

Even when Sam rang over the weekend, it wasn’t enough to make him smile and he had to force himself to sound cheery enough so his little brother wouldn’t question it. 

His friends are different, of course. Like Seb, all three were very quickly aware of his mood and gave him space for the most part. Until this morning apparently. It’s not like he’s been moping in bed for the entire week, binge watching Schitt’s Creek to cope but it certainly feels like it. 

And since he has a wonderfully free morning, it’s what he plans to do for a few more hours.

That is until there’s a light knock on the door. 

Dean groans into his pillow. Did fucking Seb forget his key again? 

Either way he continues to lie there until the knock becomes louder and more insistent.

“Christ, okay, I’m coming,” Dean calls out before shoving himself from the bed, eyes bleary. 

It’s only when he swings the door open he sees that it’s not Seb.

Cillian stands before him, eyes giving his ruffled appearance a once over and if eyes could frown that’s certainly what they’d be doing right now.

And he would snipe at him if he was Seb coming back or Brady riding his ass but he’s never been able to get mad at Cillian. He doesn’t think anyone has. 

“Can I come in?” he says, and Dean nods, stepping aside.

Cillian takes a seat on his bed, gaze sweeping over the rumpled sheets – not that Seb’s bed doesn’t look the exact same – but he’s the neat one.

Dean stands before him, and even though he can’t get mad at Cillian, it doesn’t mean he’s exactly thrilled about what’s to come.

“What are you doing here? Seb put you up to this?”

“I’m here to see if you’re okay. And no, Seb did not put me up to this.” 

Dean groans internally, eyes averting to the ceiling. “Look, I appreciate it and all but how many times do I gotta tell you guys? I’m _fine._ ”

When he finds Cillian’s eyes again he can tell he sees straight through his bullshit. Cillian has always been good at reading everyone like that.

“No, you’re not,” he says. 

He huffs a small laugh. “And how would you know?”

“Because you’re not telling us the truth.”

Dean shakes his head. “And what is it that you think I’m not telling you?”

“That you faked the bet with Castiel,” he says simply.

Dean almost chokes on air. And if he was holding something, he most certainly would’ve dropped it because _what the fuck?_

“You knew?” he gapes.

Cillian smiles then, a little sadly, however. “So, it’s true.”

Dean raises a hand, a headache coming on now. “Wait, hold on,” he says, as he slumps down beside Cillian on the bed. “I’m confused.”

“Seb and Brady might be blinded by their egos and their wallets but I for one am not. Nor am I just a general idiot.” Dean’s lips quirk up, the first time he’s smiled in days. “It was pretty easy to see that you liked him.”

Dean’s heart jumps a little and he opens his mouth to retort but Cillian just looks at him with those big, knowing brown eyes and he deflates beneath them. 

“Really? It was that easy?”

Cillian smiles softly as he nods. “It was also pretty easy to see he liked you too.”

It’s like a kick to the chest. To have it brought up again. That Castiel actually reciprocated his feelings. How was he so blind?

“And it was also then easy to see something wasn’t quite right. It all seemed very convenient, if you ask me.” Dean smiles fondly, remembering the good times they had, even if it was short lived. “It was even more suspicious when you broke up with him. I mean, Seb and Brady told me what happened and the Dean I know would never say things so awful.” 

Dean’s smile fades. “Maybe you just have too much faith in me,” he says bitterly.

“Or perhaps you just have too little faith in yourself.” Any other day Dean would smile at his friend’s words but it doesn’t sit right after all he’s learned – after the things he said about Castiel. “I saw you wander over to him. That day in the park. Speaking to each other as though nothing bad had ever been said between you. And it kind of all fell into place. That he was a part of it all along.”

Dean almost laughs, remembering Castiel’s words that day. _What if your friends see and figure it out?_

He shakes his head, not meeting Cillian’s eyes. “You must think I’m a dick, screwing Seb and Brady over like that but I swear I was gonna tell them – tell you. And I was gonna pay them back.”

Cillian shrugs. “I’m sure to them a few hundred dollars wouldn’t be missed. And besides, it would teach them a lesson to not be so imperceptive.” 

Dean stares at him a moment before they both laugh. Cillian somehow always knows the right thing to say.

When their laughter finally dissolves, they descend into silence and Dean’s unsure where to go from here. But Cillian’s already ahead of him.

“What happened? All of this, it’s because of him, isn’t it?” he says, and he’s so sincere and open, not at all judgemental that he apparently is stuck on the supposed resident cheating prick.

Dean tells him everything. Tells him about how Castiel wanted to fake the bet and how he went along with it, tells him about how he started to maybe like him a little more than he should have along the way and about the weird things that happened that he didn’t quite understand back then. He tells him about how he saw Castiel get punched in the face by his ex and how he yelled at Dean and revealed he’d overheard all that they had said that day. And of course, he tells him Castiel’s truth and how he feels like shit for all of it.

Cillian sits there silently for a long time as Dean waits, more than embarrassed. 

“Well,” he finally says, “I think you need to go and apologise to him. I mean, it’s not entirely your fault, Dean. How were you to know everything people were saying about him wasn’t true? But…it obviously hurt him, especially because he clearly liked you and I think even if he claims he doesn’t want to hear from you anymore, hearing it from you…it might make things a little better.”

Dean lets out a deep, pent up breath, resting his head in his hands. “I know but…”

“You want to be with him, don’t you?”

Dean swallows, chest aching. “Yeah. I do,” he mutters, knowing his response is underselling it. It’s all he wants, all he can think about. To have Castiel let him into his life, let him know him better, kiss him for real…

Cillian’s frowning down at his shoes when Dean glances up. “Perhaps…perhaps do something special then, something that tells him you’ve been listening to who he really is. And you never know. Maybe he’ll give you a second chance.”

And he knows he’s right. It’s all he can do. And if Castiel doesn’t want to ever see him again, then he’ll have to accept that and move on. But he can try. At least tell him his truth. Tell him that he likes him for him and not who everyone else thinks him to be. 

“What should I do?” he asks, not knowing even where to begin.

Cillian looks at him. “I don’t know. But don’t overthink it. If you truly do know him, it’ll come to you.”

✧ ✧ ✧

Dean stares at the door, heart thumping in his chest as the faint sound of the doorbell rings inside. Now that he’s here he can’t help but wonder if this was a bad idea.

He gave it two weeks, knowing Castiel probably would want some space after they last saw each other. He returned to class as usual and Dean didn’t speak to him, not even looking in his direction whenever Castiel would pass by.

And maybe this was stupid, maybe Castiel won’t even be home or maybe he’ll slam the door in his face as soon as he sees who it is--

“Shit,” Dean curses under his breath, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. His hand bumps over the gift in his pocket and he closes his eyes, wondering if that was stupid too because even if his friends thought it was a nice idea - after he finally told Seb and Brady what he’d told Cillian (which earned him quite the scolding but ended with both of them red from embarrassment for being so oblivious) - maybe Castiel won’t think the same and will think it’s--

He hears movement inside and his heart jumps. Shit. He scrambles to brush himself down to try and look half presentable just in time for the door to open and--

Castiel’s eyes widen from where he’s half hidden behind the door but Dean can see he’s dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a soft, grey shirt, hair wild and looking smaller than Dean ever thought he could.

When he meets Castiel’s gaze, however, blue eyes fall away but he doesn’t move to slam the door in his face and Dean takes it as something.

He lets out a deep breath. “What are you doing here, Dean?” he mutters softly.

Dean swallows. This is it. “I came to tell you the truth.”

Castiel’s eyes finally lift to meet his own and they’re so very tired. “What truth?”

“My truth, and then you won’t ever have to listen to me again if you don’t want to,” he says, a little desperation creeping into his voice. “I promise.”

Castiel looks at him, eyes searching for something as Dean’s heart sits in his throat and he must find it for he deflates beneath Dean’s gaze and steps out onto the porch, closing the door behind him and leaning back against it, hands tangled behind him.

And Dean breathes. Breathes until he’s calmed the erratic beat of his heart. 

And then he speaks.

“I believed it. All of it. Never questioned any of the stories anyone told me. And I hated you. Because you were this guy that just went around fucking people over and even though I knew what that felt like – to be fucked over like that, to be cheated on – I still had this stupid crush on you. And maybe it wasn’t the kind of crush I had from knowing you because I didn’t. So, I said yes to the bet for purely selfish reasons. Because I wanted to get to know why you did what you did and maybe kiss you along the way and…” Dean shakes his head, eyes falling away from Castiel’s for a moment. “And it sounds really shitty but even after that first date I…I liked you.”

Dean huffs a quiet laugh at the memory. “I mean, you kissed me on the cheek and that was it, I was a fucking mess over it, you should’ve seen it.”

A spark of something brighter flashes through Castiel’s blue eyes, a sad smile pulling at his lips and hope sparks like a flare inside Dean’s chest.

“And I didn’t want to admit it. Because you were supposed to be this prick but I liked you anyway.” Castiel’s eyes glimmer but he doesn’t look away. “And every time we hung out together I liked you a little more. I just – I couldn’t help it and I was fucked up over it. And I mean, you saw how I could barely stay away even after the bet was done. Because--" 

He pauses, takes a tentative step forward. “Because you make me smile and laugh,” Castiel swallows, eyes flicking away but Dean steps closer, ducking to catch his eyes, make sure he knows it when he says, “And you’re annoyingly smart and never put up with any of my shit.” 

He pauses a moment, watching as Castiel’s eyes fill with tears. He raises his hand, brushes the hair from his face. 

“And you’re beautiful.” Castiel’s lower lip tremors as a tear falls and Dean’s heart aches for him. “And I don’t understand how no one else can see what I see.” 

Castiel’s eyes fall to his feet and he wipes the tears from his face with the back of his hand as Dean’s own hand falls away, smile fading.

“And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have believed any of it. I should have given you a chance to speak for yourself. I shouldn’t have even taken the stupid bet in the first place.” He waits for Castiel’s eyes to find his once more and his heart is like a stampede in his chest. “I should have told you how I really felt. That I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. And if you would give me another chance, even if we could just be friends--”

“I don’t want to just be friends.” 

Dean blinks, fumbling for words as Castiel stares at him, eyes open and meaningful, his first words since Dean began apologising hanging in the air between them.

“Really?” he says quietly, throat tight.

Castiel’s eyes soften. “Isn’t it obvious? Why do you think I said yes to the bet in the first place?” His chest blooms with hope as he searches those blues eyes. “It wasn’t because of the money. It was because like I said. I already liked you. And I…I wanted to pretend that it was real. That you and I were real. Even if it was just for a little while. And then you went and made me like you more which only made everything so much worse.”

Dean can’t help the smile that spreads across his face before he averts his gaze, attempting to restrain it. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“No, you’re not.” Dean glances up to find that smile on Castiel’s lips. 

“No.” Dean smiles. “I’m not.”

Castiel’s eyes shine for a moment before his gaze falls to his feet once more.

“I’m sorry for getting so angry at you.”

Dean huffs. “Cas--”

“I only did because I wanted you to be different.” His eyes are pained when he looks up and Dean softens beneath them. “To be the one person to see through all of it but…” he shrugs, “how were you to know?” He pauses, mouth twisting but his eyes stay trained on him as he says, “I hated that you made me like you. And I knew you liked me too.” His lips curve up at that and Dean can’t help but mirror it. “But it hurt to be around you, knowing you still thought of me that way.”

Dean shakes his head, hating that Castiel felt that way around him, hating that he could have made him feel different if he’d just given him a chance. 

Castiel huffs. “And it extra fucking sucked when I overheard one of your friends saying he’d heard some guys had tried to ask me out and I’d laughed in their faces or some shit – like anyone has ever even tried to talk to me after the rumours spread let alone ask me out in this damn town except for my prick of an ex. And he only did because he was a few years older and hadn’t heard the rumours yet…” He trails off, words bitter. “But it wasn’t your friend’s fault either--"

“You don’t have to apologise, Cas. To my friends. To me. Especially me. I deserved--”

“What’s that?” Castiel’s brow is creased, frowning as he stares at the edge of the mixtape that’s sticking out of his jacket pocket. 

Dean flushes. “Oh, uh, it’s nothing, just something I – uh--” Castiel’s head is tilted to the side, birdlike, his blue eyes boring into him and Dean feels the tips of his ears burning. “Something I made for you.”

Castiel blinks. “For me?” he says, almost hesitant as though he doesn’t quite believe it. 

Dean clears his throat. “Yeah, but it’s stupid, you don’t have to take it or anything,” he says, as he pulls the mixtape out of his pocket and gives it to Castiel who grabs it tenderly as though it might break if he clutches it too hard. “It’s – uh – greatest movie soundtracks of all time – well what _I_ think are the greatest soundtracks of all time.”

He trails off awkwardly, watching Castiel turn it over between his fingers, a smile forming at the corner of his mouth, familiarly teasing.

“You know we’re not in the olden days, right? I don’t even have something to play it on.”

“Oh yeah, I know,” he mumbles, wiping his sweaty palms on the back of his jeans, “I mean I’ve got my dad’s old Walkman that you can borrow or I can buy--”

“No, Dean, it’s – I’m not complaining. It’s just…” His brows crease. “Mixtapes take a long time to make.”

Dean huffs a laugh. “Yeah, I know. But mixtapes are romantic, right?”

Castiel blinks and suddenly his eyes are wide and glimmering. “Romantic?” he mutters, almost a whisper.

And something stutters inside of him, like maybe he’s done something wrong. “Well, you said you liked romance,” he blurts, a flush creeping up the back of his neck, “And I don’t know,” he rushes to explain, “I didn’t think just sending you a spotify playlist would be that--"

“Dean. I don’t want to be just friends.” 

And it’s almost a whisper this time, almost a plea, as Castiel’s blue eyes shine with something hesitant – something hopeful.

Dean’s heart settles inside of him, like maybe it’s finally found its rhythm. He smiles, teasing now.

“We can be just enemies if you want.”

And Castiel’s smile can be seen even in his eyes. Dean can’t tear his gaze away.

There’s no teasing in Castiel’s words now, however, when he says, “Go on, then.” Dean’s stomach flutters, his eyes falling to Castiel’s lips, curved into a smile. “Kiss me.”

When he meets Castiel’s eyes, they’re shining. And he doesn’t waste another second, raising one hand to cradle his jaw, the other slipping to rest on his waist, pulling Castiel in to meet him halfway.

And nothing is different. Castiel’s lips are as soft as they always are and he presses into Dean like he always did, his hands smoothing up Dean’s chest but this time Dean can feel the difference. Because this isn’t a part of some stupid bet. 

This is real.

And Dean can practically feel the joy springing from his chest, can feel Castiel’s lips curve against his and--

“Oh.”

They spring apart, Castiel shoving Dean hard enough away that he almost tumbles onto his backside but thankfully keeps his feet under him as he whips his gaze over to the man standing in the driveway, dark hair ruffled in the light breeze, big eyes wide and bag in one hand, decked out in scrubs and – Dean’s eyebrows pull together – looking very familiar.

Castiel steps forward, blush burning his cheeks as he says, “Dad, what are you doing here?”

Well, shit. 

“I got off early,” Castiel’s dad says, waltzing over and up onto the porch between them, “And I thought we could share some lunch.” He lifts the bag in hand before his eyes finally flick over to Dean, slight amusement in his eyes. “Who’s this?”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “This is Dean, Dean this is my dad.”

Castiel’s father smiles. “Ah, I see,” he says, more than slightly amused now. “So, this is the boy you’ve been blowing me off for the past however many weeks.”

Castiel makes a strangled sound at the back of his throat as Dean gapes at him. “Dad!” And he’s never been so satisfied than he is now as he watches Castiel’s face burn bright red in embarrassment, a laugh finally spilling from his lips, Castiel’s father joining in. “Fuck you both,” Castiel grumbles, arms crossed petulantly over his chest.

Once his laughter has faded he grins, any hesitance evaporating. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr Novak,” he says, holding a hand out.

Castiel’s father takes it gladly. “Please, call me James. And it’s nice to finally meet you as well.”

When they glance over to Castiel, he’s rolling his eyes, but Dean swears he sees something fond lingering there.

“Alright, alright, I’ll get on inside but don’t be too long out here or else the food will go cold and I would like to catch up before I pass out.”

“Thank you,” Castiel mutters, a tiny smile on his lips and Dean doesn’t miss the way his father squeezes his shoulder affectionately. It’s clear how they love each other. And it only makes him want to know Castiel even more.

“Blowin’ off your dad for me, huh?” Dean says, when it’s finally the two of them once more. 

Castiel shakes his head, but the curve of his lips isn’t something he can hide.

“You’re infuriating.”

“You love it,” he teases, and the bashful look in those blue eyes is enough to make his heart swell. 

Finally, though, they fall into silence, Castiel’s eyes drifting away, deep in thought. And Dean’s about to open his mouth and speak when Castiel says, “What if the rumours never go away?” Dean blinks, frowning at the anxiety that flashes through those beautiful blue eyes. “Would you really want to be associated with me?”

Dean smiles softly, hand reaching out to grasp one of Castiel’s in his own. “You think I’d come all this way, break my back over that goddamn mixtape, if I didn’t?” 

Castiel looks at him, really looks at him and Dean can only hope he can see that it’s true. That he couldn’t give a flying fuck about what anyone else wants to think.

Castiel smiles soft and small. “Okay.”

Dean’s heart swells, his own smile lighting up his face. “Okay?”

“I’ll give you another chance. And I’d really appreciate if you didn’t fuck it up,” Castiel says, that teasing glint in his eyes and it’s like a breath of relief. 

Dean grins. “You want to bet on that?”

Castiel shakes his head. “Bets are stupid. Promise me.” And this time, his eyes are sincere.

Dean looks at him, really looks at him and he can only hope Castiel can see that he means it when he says, “I promise.”

He’s barely blinked before Castiel is leaning up against him, one hand cradling his jaw, lips catching his own and Dean melts into it, his heart fluttering inside his chest. 

When Castiel finally pulls away, his cheeks are flushed, his lips pursed with the hint of a smile and nothing but joy in his eyes. The mixtape is clutched tightly in his free hand.

“Would you like to maybe come inside and eat with us. Meet my dad properly. I swear he’s not usually so embarrassing,” he mumbles.

Dean squeezes his hand. “I’d love to.”

Castiel’s gaze is filled with warmth. “Okay,” he says, almost a whisper and then he turns and pulls him towards the door.

Castiel's hand is still tight in his own as he steps over the threshold and Dean smiles to himself, knowing in his heart that this is the start of something beautiful. And he thinks maybe he’s been too hard on himself. That perhaps going through with that awful bet was the best worst idea he’s ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I came up with this story at the beginning of 2019 and I'm so glad I got around to writing and sharing it with you all. Thank you all so, so much for the love and support, it means a lot to me :')) And of course, many more fics are on the way!
> 
> Comment below or leave some kudos if you enjoyed! Thanks so much for reading ♥
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://angvlicmish.tumblr.com/)
> 
> P.S. I've been completely overwhelmed by all the lovely comments (seriously thank you so much!!) and will hopefully be getting around to responding to each and every one of them soon! Much love.


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